Fate Decides Our Future, Volume II
by fananicfan
Summary: This is a continuation of the series, "Fate Decides Our Future" that follows Harm, Mac and family.  The first story in Volume II picks up with the Rabb family where Volume I left off and continues to follow them until September 30, 2008.
1. Chapter 1

**Fate Decides Our Future, Volume II**

**by fananicfan**

Welcome to the continuation of Fate Decides Our Future, Volume I. The series of stories has been divided to make individual parts easier to access. If you haven't read Volume I, you need to read it before you start to read Volume II because each story builds on previous ones, making the separate volumes one continuous story. If you have read and enjoyed Volume I, I hope that you enjoy Volume II just as much. Thanks again for reading, and please let me know that you are reading it by leaving your feedback.

**CHAPTER NINETEEN - BELATED VALENTINE'S DAY**

**PART ONE – Bad Timing**

**MONDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**AROUND 1715 **

**MAC'S POV**

Since I nearly always pick up Ty and bring him home with me, I know the routine. Ty rushes in the door to put away his backpack and wash his hands before going to the kitchen to see what he can do to help Harm with dinner.

I'm glad that they're so close, but it has its disadvantages. For instance, I have only a small window of opportunity to get to the kitchen to see Harm before his helper arrives.

I enter the kitchen this evening, needing as much time as possible to get some comfort from my handsome husband. With all of the things in our life that's up in the air, having a baby and discussing adoption among them, I haven't been sleeping well lately and I'm so tired today that my body aches all over.

Harm is stirring something on top of the stove when I enter. "Whatever we're having, it smells good."

He doesn't look in my direction, but he speaks. "I didn't hear you come in."

"You were probably preoccupied with your cooking duties," I tease.

"How was work?" he asks.

"It isn't everyday that a retired admiral comes into my office and spends thirty-one minutes ranting and raving that the charges against his lieutenant commander son should be dropped, so it certainly was a different kind of day." He still hasn't looked in my direction.

"What did his son do?" Harm asks casually.

"He refused to show his ID at the gate for starters. Then he spewed out a tirade of four letter words at the gate guard before finally showing his ID. Once on the base, he was pulled over for driving erratically and was arrested for driving under the influence. From the rant in my office, I'm under the impression that the admiral thinks that his son has the right to do as he pleases because he's an admiral's son."

"And what did you say to the admiral?" Harm asks, still not looking at me.

"I told him that I hadn't brought the charges against his son and, therefore, I couldn't drop the charges. However, I'd speak to the base CO to see if some amicable solution could be worked out. Of course, he told me that, if I'd earned my bird as a lawyer, I should be able to convince the CO that the charges should be dropped and that the man who arrested his son should apologize to him for inconveniencing him and casting dispersions on his character."

"It sounds like hot tempers run in the family," Harm comments matter of factly.

Harm finally turns, not to look at me, but to reach for a spice. Then he quickly turns back to his pot on the stove. I don't have time to wait for him to tell me why he's acting this way because Ty will be in here any minute.

"Harm, what is it?"

"What's what?"

He's avoiding answering me, so it can't be good. "Why haven't you at least looked in my direction since I came in?"

He stops stirring the pot and stands perfectly still before he turns towards me, but he doesn't make eye contact. "Because I have something that I need to tell you, and the timing of it makes it hard for me to say."

"Just tell me what it is," I say, fearing the worst.

"I've been summoned to Washington. I leave tomorrow morning," he says with a sigh.

I swallow hard. "How long will you be gone?" I ask nervously.

"I'll be in Washington through Friday," he replies.

"But you're supposed to leave Friday for your quals," I remind him.

"I mentioned that to General Cresswell when he called me this morning. He called me back just before I left the office for the day to tell me that arrangements have been made for me to fly my quals on that side of the country. I'll fly out of Andrews to the Patrick Henry on Saturday morning and back to Washington on Wednesday, weather permitting. I'm not due back here until Thursday."

"Why does the general need you in Washington?" I ask, wondering what's going on.

"It's my understanding that the general was just in charge of informing me of my trip, but it's Senator Proxmeyer who's requested my presence in Washington as her personal advisor on some hearing that's slated to begin the day after tomorrow in the Senate," Harm explains.

I move to him, and his arms wrap around me. I feel his lips against my temple before he whispers in my ear. "I'm not going to be here on Wednesday," he says with a sigh into my ear.

I look up to question the oddness of his statement because I don't know why Wednesday is so important that he mentions it specifically.

"Since I wasn't here last year for Valentine's Day, I wanted to make it up to you this year. I made reservations for the dinner and dance at the Hotel Del Coronado for us," he explains.

I start to tear up. I've been doing that a lot lately. At least this time, the sentiment of the evening that he had planned and the separation that's foiled his arrangements give me an excuse for my tears if I can't hold them at bay.

"I'm sure that it would've been a wonderful evening," I say with a sad smile.

Our time to discuss this ends seconds later when Ty enters the kitchen to help his dad with dinner.

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**AFTER TY IS IN BED**

I walk into our room to find Harm's bag on the bed. He's packing or, more precisely, checking a list against the bag that he had packed for this weekend's trip out to the America for his quals.

"Need any help?" I ask.

He shoves a couple of sheets of paper that are stapled together in my direction as he begins to speak. "She couldn't call me to Washington just to advise her. No, she's got to take full advantage of my presence and have me attend a few parties so that she can be seen in the company of the Navy to show her support of the military."

I take a look at the top of the first page. It's his itinerary for his time in Washington.

"You can skim through the list and check to make sure that I've got the right uniforms for the various things that she expects me to attend while I'm there," he suggests.

I start scanning the schedule. Tuesday evening, reception dinner - service dress blues required. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, hearings - uniform of the day. Friday evening, benefit gala and dinner - dress mess uniform required.

"Harm, you've been through this kind of thing before. Does the name Bobbi Latham ring a bell? Why are you so worked up about it this time?"

"Because this time the Senator is messing up my plans…I'm going to miss out on too much. I'm not going to be able to give you the Valentine's Day evening that I'd planned. Then there's that child care/art day camp that Mattie put together for the President's Day holiday on Monday when students from her high school who are studying child development are going to get hands-on experience, and the kids who are signed up will have art classes and lunch. I was supposed to be there to help supervise, and Ty is going. Now I'm leaving Mattie short an adult and I won't be there to have fun with our son. I'm leaving before we've made a decision on whether or not to adopt the girls, and, if all that isn't enough to get me worked up, your appointment with the doctor is on Tuesday, and I won't be back yet," Harm says, furious about being called away at this time.

"Harm, you…we know that this kind of thing is part of the military life that we've chosen. We can have a romantic dinner…just the two of us when you get back. I think it's wonderful that you wanted to do something so special, but it isn't necessary. When you told the children after dinner that you had to go out of town, neither of them were upset about anything, at least after you made it clear that you were going to Washington and not a war zone."

"Iraq is probably safer than Capitol Hill these days," he mutters.

"While you were spending a little time with Ty before bed this evening, Mattie came to me with an idea that she's come up with to get someone to fill in for you at the art camp, and I think it's a brilliant plan. In fact, I wish that I'd thought of it myself." I think that I've hurt his feelings, so I try to ease my excitement. "Of course, it would be much better if you could be there, too, and we aren't sure that it'll happen because I'll have to wait until morning to make a call."

"What's her idea?"

"Mattie suggested that I call Miss Rosa and ask her if she could bring the girls to the art day camp, at least for a little while. Not only will the girls get away from the home for a couple of hours, but Miss Rosa would be around to take your place. The best and most brilliant part of her plan is that your parents as well as Mattie and Ty will get to meet the girls in a less formal setting," I explain.

"After answering their questions over the weekend, everyone in the family does seem very supportive of us adopting again, so I think that it's a great idea that everyone would be able to meet them. I just wish that I were going to be there, too." He pauses. "What's your back-up plan?" he asks.

"Peggy. Since she sold her business and took that advisory position with the purchasing firm, she's bored. She's always trying to get me involved in some new hobby that she's trying out. Last week it was tennis and the week before that it was pottery. I'll get her to agree to an art class at our weekly lunch on Wednesday afternoon." Harm looks a little defeated. "Your family wants you around, but we don't want you to feel badly about doing the job that you love. It's a good thing, Harm."

He offers a half smile. "I suppose you have a plan for your doctor's appointment, too," he mutters.

"I plan to go. I know that you're worried because I get a little depressed each month when Dr. Daniels tells me that I'm not pregnant, but don't worry. I'll be okay."

"But what if she says that you're pregnant this month? I won't be there to hear the news first-hand."

"Well, I hate to say it, but I don't think that there's much chance of that happening. I know that I should try to keep a positive attitude, but every month that goes by that we're told that the pregnancy test is negative just makes it that much harder." He reaches for me, and we wrap our arms around each other. "We're going to be fine here, so let's get you packed so that you can get a good night's sleep." I give him a gentle hug around the waist.

"Do I have to go?" he asks, sounding like a little boy before giving me a kiss that's loving and inviting.

When he pulls his lips away from mine, I open my eyes to see an inquisitive look in his eyes, and it takes me a moment to remember the question. "Yes, you have to go..." I reply, shaking my head at his foolishness. "...but I'll be here when you get back." I stop there, but before we pull apart, I add. "I know that the timing of this trip isn't the best, but we can't say that about your return. I'll be between cycles and available to finish what you were trying to start with that kiss, so make sure that you get a good night's sleep before you head home, too. Now, back to packing!" I order.

**WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2007**

**VINNIE'S BISTRO**

**LUNCHTIME**

Peggy and I arrive at about the same time and meet each other coming across the parking lot.

She and I have formed a mutually beneficial friendship, and I've enjoyed having someone who understands the inability to have a child and the emotions that come with it while, at the same time, being able to set aside that negative bond to enjoy the other things that we share in common, like shoe shopping.

Today, I'm trying to keep my emotions in check. At work, I haven't been able to resolve the problems of the retired admiral's son to the satisfaction of the aforementioned admiral, and Harm's absence while we're contemplating adopting again is stressful on the family.

I'm pleased that Mrs. Morales thought that the girls coming to the art camp was a good idea, especially since Abigail likes art so much. She also liked the idea that their prospective grandparents and siblings were going to be there for them to meet. However, Mrs. Morales wasn't going to be able to stay long, so I needed to draft Peggy into attending to help monitor the event.

I told Peggy about the girls last week at lunch before we'd been able to meet them and, as if she knows that I want to talk about them, as soon as we're seated, she asks about them.

"So, Mac, how was the meeting with the girls on Saturday?"

"The meeting was wonderful. I think that the little one, who goes by Sami, has Harm's heart already. She's a real cutie and a bit precocious. The older one is sweet and shy. It was heartbreaking when we had to leave without them."

"You've already decided to adopt them?"

"No, we haven't. There are so many things to consider. We have decided to let Mattie and Ty meet the girls before we talk about it anymore. If the girls don't seem to get along with Ty, the decision will be much easier. Ty and Mattie are already our children and our top priority."

"That makes perfect sense. When are you planning to have them meet?"

"Monday, if you're free."

"What do I have to be free to do?"

I explain the whole idea of having the children meet at the art day camp and, with Harm being away, we need another adult to help supervise. When I tack on, "Please, because I could use the moral support if something goes wrong and they hate each other," I get a commitment from her to come, and I breathe a sigh of relief before she sends me into shock with news of her own.

"Mac, I have to tell you that I was being a little selfish by asking you about the girls as soon as we sat down."

"Asking me about the girls that I might be adopting was selfish? I don't think so."

"The asking part may not have been, but asking as soon as we sat down so that we could get it out of the way sure was." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I have something that I want to tell you, and I didn't want to blurt out my news first."

"I know that this is probably bad timing for you with Harm away, the weight of your job and the decision that you're trying to make about expanding your family, but you've quickly become my best friend, and I want you to be the first one to know what a wonderful Valentine's Day this has been for me. Our surrogate had a doctor's appointment this morning. Mac, we're pregnant."

"Oh, Peggy, that's wonderful news. I'm so happy for you."

"Are you? Will you be okay with meeting me for lunch when I have to bring the baby with me?"

"Yes, of course, I'll be fine."

"Don't call Dan to off any congratulatory words until tomorrow. I'm going to tell him tonight at the end of our Valentine's Day dinner. How perfect is the timing to be able to give him that kind of surprise on a day about love?"

We spend the rest of lunch talking about _her_ baby that's due in late September.

I am her friend and I'm happy for her, but on the drive back to my office after lunch, I can't keep myself from feeling jealous that she's getting her baby and I'm not.

What a wonderful Valentine's Day Dan is going to have. Why can't that be Harm's Valentine's gift?

**RABB HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**EVENING**

Ty and I are watching a PBS special on the moon when the telephone rings. I take note of the time. Harm called about this same time yesterday, so I'm sure that it's Harm calling to say good night to Ty.

I reach for the cordless handset on the end table, check the caller ID and hand it to Ty. "It's Dad," I tell him.

Even the beautiful dozen red roses that arrived at my office this afternoon for Valentine's Day from Harm gave me only a moment of cheer because I'm still trying to reconcile my feelings about Peggy's baby news. Last night, I spoke to Harm first, then Ty spoke to him, and then I spoke to him again. I don't think that I can talk to him on the phone that long tonight. He didn't want to go on this trip in the first place, so I don't want him to feel badly about not being here. If I start to get a grip on my emotions now, by the time Ty and Harm have finished talking, I'll be able to get through a brief conversation with him without getting all teary-eyed.

I hear Ty answer the phone. "Hi, Dad."

From Ty's response, I can tell that Harm must have asked how Ty knew it was him

"Mom knew, so she let me answer the phone."

I get so wrapped up with thinking about how I'm going to handle speaking with Harm tonight that I don't hear any more of their conversation, and it startles me when Ty says, "Momma, Dad wants to talk to you now."

I take the phone as I take in a deep breath. I can do this.

"Hello, Harm, the roses you sent are beautiful."

"Even if it wasn't what I had planned, I wanted you to have something that said Happy Valentine's Day to remind you that I love you. In case I don't mention it often enough -"

"- I love you, too," I say, cutting him off. I love the romantic side of him, but I can't handle this right now, not with him clear across the country when I want him here with his arms around me.

"Mac what's wrong?"

"What makes you think that something wrong?"

"The formal 'Hello, Harm' for starters. Mac, talk to me."

He won't give in until I give him something. "I miss you. That's all," I offer.

"Ma-a-ac," he draws out my name. "What's going on? If you think that keeping it from me will keep me from being upset while I'm away, you're wrong. It upsets me to think that you're shutting me out again. I thought that we were past that. Please, just tell me what it is ... or do you want me to guess? Did Mrs. Morales call and change her mind about letting the girls come on Monday?"

Damn him. He knows exactly what to say to get to me. "It isn't about the girls. It's about Peggy."

"You two have a disagreement because you wanted her to help out on Monday?"

"No, she was in such a good mood that she'd have agreed to do just about anything I asked."

"Why was she in such a good mood?"

"She'd just come from a doctor's appointment with their surrogate who was told that she's pregnant." As the word pregnant leaves my mouth, I feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes.

"I know that the news must have your emotions all over the place. You're happy for your friend and sad that it isn't us. I'm sorry that I'm not there to give you a shoulder to cry on."

"I didn't want you to feel badly about not being here. That's why I didn't want to tell you over the phone."

We spend fifteen more minutes on the phone. He mostly just listens and, by the time the call ends, I do feel some better.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO ****– Reactions**

**SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2007**

**USS PATRICK HENRY**

**WATERS OFF THE ATLANTIC COAST**

**HARM'S POV**

After spending three boring days sitting beside Senator Proxmeyer during the Senate hearing, for which I feel that my presence was absolutely ludicrous, and attending a reception and gala, which made me miss Mac all the more, this morning, I finally flew out to the Patrick Henry to begin my quals.

When I arrive, I'm informed that the original schedule had me cooling my heels today with my quals starting tomorrow, but if I was ready to fly today, there was room in the flight schedule for me to start this afternoon. All I had to do to get in the air today was to swing by sick bay to get my final medical clearance from the doc.

I head to my temporary quarters to drop off my gear. My next stop will be sick bay. The sooner I get started, the sooner I can get finished and go home.

Who would have thought that I'd ever feel this way about flying? I just want to get my quals done and go home.

I reach my assigned quarters and drop my bags on the rack, telling myself, 'You're just having a reaction to having your plans at home messed up by having to spend time in Washington before getting to fly. Once you're in the cockpit, you'll feel the rush, and you'll want to be here and in the air for as long as you can be.'

As I walk towards sick bay, I know another reason why I don't feel as elated as in the past about being here - my phone call home last night - more to the point, my conversation with Mac.

Mac has sounded tired every night when I've called, but last night, she couldn't keep from yawning most of the way through our conversation. A bout of insomnia isn't uncommon for her when she has something on her mind that she needs to work through, and since we didn't make a decision on whether or not to take the next step towards adopting the girls before I was called away, I know that she's trying to work through that, and then there was that retired admiral who was giving her grief at work when I left, too.

Even though I barely survived my days in Washington, there were a couple of bright spots. One was being able to get in touch with Keeter to catch up and have a few beers, and another was having dinner with the Roberts' family on Thursday evening.

During the formal dinner reception last night, where I spent most of the evening practicing evasive maneuvers to avoid questions about my personal position on the war in Iraq, I had what I thought was a great idea.

After getting away from the gala, I made my nightly call home, confident that my idea was going to get a positive response - I was wrong.

When I delivered my idea of checking into a nice hotel next weekend for a romantic getaway, I was rewarded with an agitated and firm "No!"

Mac did explain after her abrupt rejection of the idea that she felt that it would be too soon after my return for us to go away without Ty. She had a point, but I was a little taken aback by her sudden angry outburst.

Thinking about it now, I shouldn't have been surprised, given her lack of sleep. It fits into a pattern with her. Her fatigue casues her not to feel quite like herself, and she gets irritable. If she continues to be unable to sleep, the next step is for her to either lose her desire to eat or simply forget to eat, which will lead to her losing a couple of pounds. Thank god I won't be gone long enough for it to go any farther than that.

I reach sick bay and take a deep breath. I'll get my medical clearance and get my six in the air so I can keep my mind on something else until I can leave for home.

**RABB HOME**

**SAN DIEGO, CA**

**MAC'S POV**

I roll over in bed, my body feeling nothing but the cool sheets in the space where he should be, and I open my eyes. This makes the fourth morning in a row that I've awakened alone in our bed.

I've been sleeping, but I guess not deeply enough to wake feeling rested. This morning, I feel even a little...I don't know what the word is…just off.

I get out of bed, telling myself, 'You've got things to do today. Suck it up, Marine.'

As the water runs over my body in the shower, I tell myself, 'This fatigue is a direct reaction to our indecision about the girls. I haven't had a good night's sleep since we decided to meet them. When Harm comes home, we need to make a decision one way or the other so that I can end my restless nights of thinking and dreaming about them, and get some restful sleep.'

As I towel myself dry, I think that my tossing and turning last night might have more to do with the poor way that I handled my husband's thoughtful idea of spiriting me away for a weekend.

It could also have been anxiety about how I'm going to spend this morning.

Peggy called me on Thursday morning and asked me to go shopping with her this morning. She can't wait to start shopping for the baby and, though Dan is happy about the baby, he wants to wait until the pregnancy is farther along before making any purchases. I agreed to go because she's my friend and I really am happy for her, and also because she was kind enough to agree to help out on Monday with the day camp when I'll get to see the girls again. I also know that she's looking for reassurance that everything will be okay with the baby, and, if a couple of hours of shopping with her helps, then I need to do it. She's my friend, and I want to do anything that I can to support her.

I'd called Frank after getting off the phone with Peggy to ask if he'd be able to keep Ty while I went shopping this morning. Frank was thrilled to have the time with Ty.

When I told Ty that he was going to spend the morning with his grandpa, he was excited. I'm sure that Ty would rather be with his dad, but he loves time with his grandpa, too.

I have a thought as I comb through my wet hair. When Harm calls tonight, I'll apologize for being short with him. While we're out shopping, I'll pop into a Fredrick's of Hollywood or a Victoria's Secret to pick up something lacy and sexy that screams 'I want to kiss and make up' when he gets home.

A quick check of my internal clock tells me that I have to get moving. I still have to make breakfast for Ty and Mattie before taking Ty over to spend the morning with Frank.

**MONDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**AFTER DINNER**

I pushed my food around on my plate, but I wasn't the only one without an appetite tonight. In fact, Ty didn't eat much this morning or all day yesterday either. That's why I'd made the blue box of macaroni and cheese that he loves, which Harm doesn't make very often. 'How healthy can powdered cheese be?' is what Harm says about it, but it's something from Miss Nancy's list of things that Ty likes to eat, so I thought that it might get him to eat tonight.

I know that Ty's a little depressed because we missed Harm's call on Saturday while we were out doing a few errands.

Harm had left a message, and Ty listened to it at least five times on Saturday night before he went to bed.

("Hey, I was hoping that you weren't out grocery shopping or something, but I didn't get my wish. I'm calling to tell you not to worry if you don't hear from me for a few days. I'm fine and I'll call again as soon as I can. My flight schedule, along with the time difference, just won't make it easy to catch you awake or at home. I've got to go to a flight ops briefing now. I miss all of you. I'll be home soon. Bye.")

The other thing that I think kept Ty from enjoying the mac and cheese as much as he usually does was meeting the girls today.

At first, Abigail wanted to stay near me instead of interacting with the other childern or participating in the activities, and I was surprised since she'd told us that she really likes art.

Sami was more interested in knowing where the big man was who was with me when we first met the girls at the group home. She seemed very disappointed when I told her that Harm was working and couldn't come today. I think that the heart stealing has been a two-way exchange between Harm and Sami.

With help from Mrs. Morales, we did get Abigail interested in looking around at some of the activities. She and Sami even sat at the drawing station to draw a picture along with Ty.

When the girls had to leave, they wanted me to have their drawings. I have them upstairs next to the bed along with the one that Ty drew so that I can show them all to Harm when he gets home in a few days.

While Trish, Frank and I watched Ty and the girls draw, Harm's parents' commented on how adorable the girls are. I didn't expect anything else because, during our discussion at their home before dinner the day after Harm and I met them, they'd voiced their concerns about the possible damage done to Abigail by the previous family and, while lending us their support in whatever decision we make, advised that we proceed with caution.

Peggy commented on how much the girls look like they could be our biological children, given their hair color. She also noted the fact that Abigail has brown eyes like mine and that Sami's eye color could easily have been passed down from Harm.

Mattie seemed to be excited about them and managed to snap a picture of Ty and the girls at the drawing station and one of me and the girls when we were saying goodbye. She said that she'll have the roll of film developed tomorrow so that we can show Harm the pictures when he gets home. Mattie's acting like they're already members of the family.

Ty, on the other hand, hasn't said anything about the girls. When I asked him directly about them before he picked a movie to watch, he said that he was "still thinking about it." I think in little boy talk that translates to, 'I want to talk to my dad about it.'

Ty and I are sitting on the couch, looking at the TV, but I don't think that either one of us could tell you the name of the movie that we're watching.

"I miss Dad," Ty says out of the blue.

"I miss him, too." I turn on the couch to face him before taking his hands in mine. "He's been gone before and he'll have to go again, but he loves us, and we have to understand that he's working and that he'll be home as soon as he can."

"Can I sit in your lap?" Ty asks in a little boy voice that surprises me.

"Sure," I answer immediately.

I wonder what brought this on. He hasn't wanted to do this in a long time. He's almost too big to sit in my lap. I wonder if he's jealous of the attention that I was giving the girls today ... or maybe he just misses Harm.

He climbs into my lap, and I wrap my arms around him.

We just get settled in and our eyes turned back to the TV when the phone rings.

I make a contorted reach for the phone so that Ty doesn't have to move off my lap, but it causes a muscle twinge in my back that sends a 'don't do that again' message to my brain.

I press the talk button and answer with a pained, "Rabb residence."

"Hey, everything okay?" Harm asks.

"Is now. You have great timing. Hold on a minute. Someone needs to talk to you even more than I do." I offer the handset to Ty, telling him, "It's Dad."

**TY'S POV**

I grab the phone. "Dad, is it really you?"

"Yeah, it's me," Dad says with a chuckle.

"Are you coming home soon?"

"I am, very soon."

"When?"

"If I tell you, you'll have to give the phone to Momma so that I can tell her before I have to get off the phone, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm leaving the ship tomorrow, but my flight to San Diego doesn't leave until Wednesday morning. That means that I'll be home a full day earlier than I was scheduled to be."

"Really?"

"Really, now let me tell Momma."

"Okay." I give the phone back to my mom with a big smile on my face now that I've been able to talk to my dad.

"May I go get some grapes for a snack?" I ask before Momma gets the phone up to her ear.

**MAC'S POV**

I give him a "sure" while I'm lifting the phone to my ear, and he jumps off my lap. A one-minute talk with Harm, and his appetite's back.

With the handset at my ear, I say to Harm, "He really misses you."

"I miss him."

"I'll bet that you miss a bed that you fit in, too," I comment.

He chuckles. "Yeah, but I miss who I share that bed with more."

"I miss you, too." I'm sure that Harm can hear the smile in my voice.

"I called to tell you that I'll be getting off this bucket of bolts tomorrow and I'll be home on Wednesday."

"That explains the smile on Ty's face. You've already told him."

"Guilty."

"Well, on Wednesday, I've got a little belated Valentine's Day planned for you to make up for being so short with you the other night when you were just trying to be sweet."

"I didn't have a chance to shop for a gift after my original plan got all screwed up," he says disappointedly.

"You don't have to shop. You being home again is all I want. It's the perfect gift."

I think that my words must have caused him to get choked up because I hear him clear his throat before he changes the subject with questions about today.

"How did art camp go today? Did the girls come? Did they spend any time with Ty?"

"Mattie put together another successful event, and everyone was very impressed with our daughter's abilities to put an event like that together," I tell him, bragging on Mattie some before I get to the answers of his questions.

"The girls came for a little while. There were different reactions to meeting them. Your parents thought that the kids were adorable, but they still have their concerns. Mattie acted like they were already ours. I don't know how Ty feels. He did talk to them for a little while, but he hasn't said anything to me about what he thought of them. I think that he wants to talk to you about it."

"I hope to get in early enough on Wednesday to pick him up from school. If I do, I'll get the scoop from him on our way home. I hate to do this, but I need to go so I can get some sleep. I want to ace my early morning qual flight so that I can catch the ride to Andrews in the afternoon. Remind Ty that, since I'll be in the air most of the day tomorrow, I probably won't have a chance to call, but I'll see him on Wednesday for sure, and tell him that, if I get in early enough, I'll pick him up from school."

"I can do that for you. Anything else?"

"Yeah, one more thing – good luck at your doctor's appointment tomorrow."

He can be so sweet. "I love you. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"I love you. Bye."


	3. Chapter 3

**PART ****THREE ****– A Day to Remember**

**TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 2007**

**FLIGHT COUNTER**

**ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE**

**0900 (SAN DIEGO) – 1200 (WASHINGTON) **

**HARM'S POV**

Having completed my quals not long after dawn this morning, I got off the Patrick Henry at the first opportunity.

Now at Andrews, I decide to verify my flight for tomorrow to North Island while I'm here at the terminal instead of calling later and I'm informed by the petty officer behind the counter that, due to a change in troop movements, that flight has been cancelled.

"Cancelled! When is the next flight to North Island, Petty Officer?"

"Captain, do you mean after today, sir?"

"There's a flight out today?" I ask, breathing a little easier.

"Yes, sir, scheduled to depart at 1430."

"Petty Officer, is there room on that flight for one more?"

The petty officer reaches for a clipboard. "Yes, sir."

"Then get me on that flight!"

"Yes, sir."

As the petty officer generates the necessary paperwork to add the name Captain Rabb to the passenger list, I calculate my arrival time in San Diego.

The plane should be landing at North Island at approximately 1930 Washington time, which means that it will be 1630 in San Diego when I arrive.

**PARKING LOT OF JLS, SAN DIEGO**

**1100 (SAN DIEGO) – 1400 (WASHINGTON) **

**MAC'S POV**

Though I love the time with my family, I hate three day weekends. The missing day really messes with the routine.

The usual Monday staff meeting, which was held this morning because of the Presidents' Day holiday yesterday, ran long, so I've been running late for everything all morning.

I should've been on my way to the doctor ten minutes ago.

I'm looking forward to Harm coming home tomorrow. He'll talk to Ty and, with the feedback from everyone, we'll make a decision about adopting the girls. Then maybe I'll be able to get a good night's sleep.

In addition to having the need to make a decision on my mind, I've missed having him to snuggle up against. In fact, since Harm was transferred home last year, I've slept better than I ever have in my life.

As I unlock the door of the SUV, my cellphone rings, causing my thoughts to turn from a good night's sleep to: 'Great! What now? I'm already running late.'

I reach into my purse and take out my cellphone, but the caller ID brings a small smile to my face. He has great timing.

I flip open my phone and softly say, "Hey, you have great timing. I'm having a terrible morning."

"Well, I hope that my call makes your day. I don't have much time because my flight is going to be boarding in about two minutes. I called to see if you could pick me up at the air terminal at North Island at 1630."

"1630 tomorrow. Sure, I'll be there."

"No, tomorrow's flight was cancelled. I'm going to be there at 1630 today."

"Today? Really?" My excitement must make me sound kind of like Ty to him.

"Really. If you can't make it, will you arrange to have someone pick me up? If you pick me up, I'll buy you dinner. They're boarding. I've got to go. I'll see you tonight. Bye."

I flip my phone closed. He'll be home tonight.

I don't know if it's relief or happiness, but I have to wipe the tears off my cheeks as I get into the car.

**FERTILITY CLINIC**

**1135 (SAN DIEGO) – 1435 (WASHINGTON) **

I'm five minutes late and I'm taken right back to get started.

Even when I come in for a pregnancy test, the nurse takes my weight, temperature and blood pressure. I once asked why they did it every time I come in and was told that it's just one form of monitoring my overall health as I go through treatments.

However, unlike the times before, today the nurse makes an odd noise when she writes down my weight and a different disapproving sound when she writes down my blood pressure.

**DR. DANIELS OFFICE**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

After the lab tech takes a blood sample for testing, the nurse who took my vital signs shows me to Dr. Daniels' office.

Just as the nurse is leaving the room, Dr. Daniels arrives.

"Good morning, Sarah. My nurse said that Harm isn't with you today. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, fine. He's been out on a carrier doing his flight qualifications, but I talked to him just a little while ago. He's on a flight home as we speak."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm a little tired."

"I see that you've lost two pounds since we did your procedure two weeks ago."

"I'm afraid that I haven't been doing very well at keeping my stress level down and, because of stress and fatigue, I may have skipped a few meals."

"So you're tired, not much appetite ... anything else?"

"Emotional, I seem to tear up at the drop of a hat."

She takes another look at the first page of my chart. "Your blood pressure is slightly elevated. That, combined with your weight loss, causes me some concern."

"It's nothing serious though, right? I mean, we'll still be able to do the in vitro in two weeks, won't we?"

There's a knock on the door, and the nurse who took my vital signs hands Dr. Daniels my test results.

My doctor's face registers no change from the concerned expression that she wore a moment ago.

"You won't be having an in vitro procedure again any time soon."

My mouth drops open and my heart races from sheer panic. My only thought is that I've run out of time. I feel a little lightheaded.

"Sarah," Dr. Daniels says, and when my eyes focus on her face, I see that she's smiling. Having acquired my attention, she says, "You aren't going to need it. Congratulations! You're pregnant."

"I'm preg-nant?" I stammer out in disbelief.

"Yes, you are. Now, let's see about calculating your due date. No matter the means of conception, we calculate from the first day of your last cycle, and a full term pregnancy is forty weeks, so your due date will be..."

'Calculating my due date.' The words echo in my head, 'my due date.'

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**JLS, SAN DIEGO**

**1435 (SAN DIEGO) – 1735 (WASHINGTON) **

After giving me the news that I'm pregnant, Dr. Daniels spent a few minutes talking to me about my due date, the importance of taking prenatal vitamins and that she'd want to see me in a week to check my blood pressure. She also said that she'd answer any questions that Harm or I might have at that time.

After leaving the doctor's office, I got my prescription filled for the prenatal vitamins and returned to JLS in a bit of a daze.

Once I'd made it safely into my office, I took the prenatal vitamin bottle out of my purse for the first time – I've done it at least two other times since then.

I'm able to hold the bottle in my hand. That means that I'm not dreaming, and the label clearly says 'Prenatal Vitamins.' That means that I'm really pregnant.

Between taking the bottle of vitamins out and putting them back, I've picked up the phone three times. I wanted to share my news.

The first time I picked up the phone, I was going to call Harm, but he's on a plane, so my call would go directly to voice mail. Besides, I want to tell him face-to-face.

The second time I picked up the phone, I dialed the first three numbers to Peggy's office before I hung up, thinking, 'No, Harm needs to be the first one I tell.'

The next time I picked up the phone, I called Frank. I didn't spill the news about the baby, but I did tell him that I was going to be late picking up Ty and asked if it was okay if he stayed a little later today. Frank answered with, "He can stay for as long as you need him to stay." It was when Frank asked, "Is everything okay?" with sincere, fatherly concern that I couldn't keep all the good news to myself. I told him that I was going to pick up Harm and that I'd like to have kind of a belated Valentine's Day dinner with him before we surprised Ty with Harm's early arrival. Frank told me not to worry about the children and to have a wonderful dinner with my husband. He also said that he'd call Trish and have her ask Mattie, who was working at the gallery, to come to their house for dinner tonight.

I've managed to get enough work done between my vitamin bottle reading and phone calling that I'll be able to leave in just a couple of minutes to pick up Harm.

**AIR TERMINAL **

**NORTH ISLAND**

**1630 **

I'm pacing in the air terminal, waiting for his flight to arrive. I stop when I catch my reflection in the glass door.

'I wish that I weren't in uniform,' I think to myself before I resume pacing.

'He'll be in uniform, too,' I continue in my own head. 'I think that I'd rather get something to take home to eat so that we can get out of our uniforms and be comfortable. Out of uniform, that reminds me of the red lacy number that I bought on Saturday. The doctor did suggest that I not take up a new sport now that I'm pregnant, but she also said that all normal activities were okay. Yes, I definitely want to eat dinner at home.'

A few moments later, I hear my name in an all too familiar voice. "Colonel MacKenzie, I'm so glad that you could arrange to pick me up personally."

I turn to see my handsome sailor just mere feet away from me after being gone for a week and I want to launch myself into his arms. Damn these uniforms!

"I was able to clear my schedule, but I do have some plans for this evening. So, if it's okay with you, Captain, I'd like to make a stop for take-out and then drive you directly to your quarters," I say in a professional tone.

"I'll leave the choice of chow to you. Lead the way," he says with a smirk.

**RABB HOME**

I hate rush hour traffic. I made a stop for Chinese food and, even getting the order to go, it took us an hour and ten minutes to get home.

The only thing that we talked about on the way home was where Ty and Mattie were. Harm didn't ask about my doctor's appointment, which surprised me.

I wonder if he's so worn out from his travels that he's forgotten what day it is. Perhaps it's that he thinks that he knows the answer and he doesn't want to ask me about it before we've had a chance to have a nice dinner.

As soon as we get in the front door, Harm drops his bags, pulls me into his arms, and we share the welcome home kiss that I'd liked to have planted on him at the air terminal.

When our lips part, he quickly volunteers to warm up the Chinese food that became cold in transit while I change into something more comfortable.

Now I'm in our bedroom, wondering if I want to change into the welcome home outfit for our belated Valentine's Day or tell him the news first.

I put the red, lacy teddy on and cover it up with my long, cream-colored, silk robe. With the Valentine's Day outfit on, I'm prepared, but with it covered up, I don't appear too eager. I'll just have to wait to see where dinner takes us.

After I've tied the robe securely, I make my way back to Harm in the kitchen, cursing myself for not spending more of my time this afternoon figuring out how I want to tell Harm about the baby.

When I get to the kitchen, I tell Harm that I'll finish heating the food and dish it up while he changes out of his uniform.

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**LATER ****IN THE EVENING**

We spent so much time looking longingly at each other over the plates of warmed up Chinese food that I don't think that we took more than three or four bites before he stood, took my hand, pulled me up into his arms and gave me a kiss that made my heart soar.

After the amazing kiss came to an end, he scooped me up and carried me to our bedroom where he set me on the bed, closed and locked the bedroom door in case Mattie came home and then reached for the tie on my robe.

The longing and desire in his eyes and the sense of urgent need in his kiss before carrying me off to bed misled me to believe that we'd come together in a heated rush, but that wasn't the case.

Once behind closed doors, his pace was slow and methodical and his caresses were tender and loving as he went about showing his love for me.

Now we're tangled in the sheets and each other after making love.

Our breathing hasn't yet returned to normal when I speak. "I missed you, too, Sailor."

"I don't think that I want to do it anymore, Mac," he says in a kind of detached voice.

I'm offended. "I wasn't that bad, was I? I mean, it may not have been the best for you, but I thought it was pretty good." I pull the sheet up and wrap it around me as I pull away from him. "Besides, there are mitigating circumstances for my perfor -"

I don't see the shock that registers on his face before the dawn of understanding appears and he cuts me off. "Being with you was wonderful for me, too! I didn't mean being with you!"

He sits up and puts his arms around me, pulling me back against him. "I meant that I don't think that I want to fly anymore ... well, with the Navy at least. When I was in the air, it was great, but I spent most of my time wanting to be home with you. If you add that to the fact that I'm tipping the age scale for an aviator and that I fly only a couple of times a year if I'm lucky, I just don't think that I want to do it anymore," he explains.

I swallow hard. "You want to give up your fighter planes for me?"

"No, not _for_ you, but _because _of you, yeah, I think it might be time."

"Well, I think that you need to get settled back in at home and really think it over before you make a final decision."

"You're right. I've got a few months to think it over before I have to decide for sure." He kisses the top of my head. "Now, what's this about mitigating circumstances that you were prepared to claim may have impeded your performance?"

I turn my head to look at him.

"The doctor said today that my lack of energy is because I need an iron and vitamin supplement and..." The drawings lying on the bedside table catch my eye, and the tears start without warning and begin to stream down my face.

"What else did she say?" he asks, concerned by my tears.

"That I'm pregnant," I say with a sob.

"And now that she says you are, you don't want a baby?" he asks, confused, but I don't think that he's really heard what I've just said.

"I want our baby..." I point to the drawings. "...but what about the girls?"

"I've been thinking about them while I've been away, too. After I talk to Ty about how he feels about them, we'll make a decision."

He's moving his hand up and down my back in a soothing rhythm. He's so focused on pacifying me that he hasn't yet realized that he's going to be a father.

"It's going to be okay, Mac. It'll all work out the way it's supposed to ... the girls, the baby…" His hand on my back suddenly stops its movement. Using the index finger of his other hand, he lifts my chin so that our eyes meet. "Wait! Did you say pregnant ... and _our_ baby? Do you mean…?"

My tears have stopped, but I nod affirmatively before saying, "The doctor says that I'm due October 30th."

Harm gets that cocky fighter jock grin on his face. "I'm going to be a father," he says with a great deal of pride and an equal amount of shock. "What else did the doctor say?" he asks excitedly.

Suddenly, I yawn. "Sweetheart, I wish you could have been with me today to hear the news from the doctor yourself. She didn't say much really, at least that I can remember."

I'm apprehensive about telling him her concerns, but I'm sure that he'll want to come with me next week when I get my blood pressure checked, so I need to tell him.

"She said that my blood pressure was a little high, not high enough that she was worried, but concerned enough that she wants to see me next week to check it again. I've lost a couple of pounds..." I yawn again. "...but I'm not worried about that because you know that when I don't sleep well I don't eat, but I'm feeling tired tonight. In fact, I'm feeling hungry, too."

"But, Mac, everything's okay with you and the baby, right?"

"Yes, we're fine ... but you know who isn't going to be fine if he doesn't get to spend some time with you before he has to go to bed - Ty. I'll tell you what. I'll go clear the table of the dinner that we didn't eat and get myself a snack while you call your parents' house to have Mattie bring Ty home with her."

"But what about the rest of the doctor's report?"

I yawn again. "Once she said that I was pregnant, I was in such a state of shock that I'm surprised that I remembered what I've already told you. The way that I feel right now, once we get Ty tucked in, I think that you'll be putting me to bed for some of that rest that the doctor said that I needed. If I think of anything else between now and then, I'll tell you before I go to sleep, okay?"

He gives me a little peck of a kiss on my lips. "Okay."

"Then we need to get up," I say firmly.

He and I haven't moved to get out of bed yet when something else that I want to say occurs to me.

"Harm, when you make your call, don't tell anyone yet about the baby. I want to take time to let it really sink in for us first ... and I want us to tell Mattie, Ty and your parents together when we're ready."

"Okay, it'll be our little secret for a while."

He slips from the bed and gives me a gentle kiss before beginning to whistle as he moves away to get dressed before he calls to have our children come home.

I had a turkey sandwich in mind, but I think that Harm was worried that my snack was going to be twice reheated Chinese food, so he followed me out of the bedroom and made his call from the kitchen, allowing me to overhear his side of the conversation.

I don't know which one of his parents answered the phone, but he asked to speak to Mattie.

Once Mattie had come to the phone, he told her that I'd been delayed because I'd been picking him up, but that we were now at the house. Then he asked her if she'd please bring Ty home with her.

**ABOUT TEN MINUTES LATER**

Harm is anxious to see both of his children, but Ty in particular because of his age, and he's been standing by the front door, waiting for them to arrive.

When the front door opens, Harm and Ty's faces light up at the sight of each other.

"Mattie said that I had a surprise at home. Are you my surprise?" Ty asks as he bolts for Harm.

"Yep!" Harm replies as he catches Ty and, in less time than it takes to blink, has him up in the air and in a man-sized hug. "I got here earlier than I thought I would, and the best part is that, since I was supposed to be traveling tomorrow, I won't need to go into the office in the morning and I can hang around the house and drive you to school. What do you think?"

"That's great! I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

Watching the two of them reminds me of how good a dad Harm is and how lucky our baby is to have him as a father.

With my family all safe and together again, I'll bet that I get a good night's sleep tonight.

What a wonderful belated Valentine's Day this has turned out to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER TWENTY - TOSSED ASIDE**

**PART ONE – Right Decision**

**WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 2007 **

**RABB HOME **

**MASTER BATHROOM**

**HARM'S POV**

I return from a run to find that Mac is still asleep.

I'd love to let her sleep all day, but she has to go to work. However, I can let her sleep for a few more minutes while I shower, and then if she isn't awake, I'll have to wake her.

With my head under the water beneath the showerhead as I rinse off, I don't hear the shower door open, but I feel her presence a moment before I feel her arms wrap around me, her breasts pressing against my back.

I turn in place and wrap my arms around her. She rests her head on my chest as I say, "Good morning."

"It is, isn't it? I can't tell you how much I missed you," she says dreamily.

"If it was half as much as I missed you, I have a pretty good idea of how much."

"I'm sorry if I gave you the idea that I didn't want this baby. I just saw the papers next to the bed and suddenly I... The girls drew them at art camp and, in that moment, I realized that I might not be able to have both the baby and the girls, and that's why I was crying, not because I don't want our baby." She pauses for a heartbeat before asking, "Do you still want the girls?"

"I don't know." The closeness of our bodies allows me to feel the hitch in her breathing at my answer. "I'm not making myself clear again." I pull away from her just enough so that I can make eye contact with her. "I think that they're wonderful little girls, and if there were only one of them or maybe if they were as ready to be adopted as Tyler was, it would be okay, but adopting them now with the baby on the way ... I'm not sure that it's a good idea. I don't want them if it means risking your health or the baby's."

"The decision may be out of our hands. I mean, Ty hasn't weighed in with his opinion yet, so that may kibosh the idea. We'll have to inform Mrs. Morales at some point that we're having a baby, and that may change our eligibility for adopting the girls."

"I'll talk to Ty on the way to school today to find out what he thinks so that we can discuss it more later. Right now, my decision is to go make you breakfast." I kiss her on the end of her nose before stepping out of the shower.

I'm drying off when Mac opens the door and peeks out with shampoo lathered into her hair. "Before I forget, I called to reserve a party room at that pizza place where Ty's friend, Jason, had his birthday party earlier this month. Jason's mom was right when she said that the place stays booked. They had only one opening left on his birthday weekend, so his party is set for Sunday the 25th at 1300. So his party will actually be on his birthday."

"I'm glad you remembered to call them, or we'd have had one very disappointed little boy on our hands. He's been saying that, if he had a party this year, he'd want it to be there since that's where Jason had his birthday party."

She's closed the shower door, but she heard me and acknowledges that by replying, "I know, so tonight when we tell him that he's going to have his party there, he's going to be so excited."

"You know, Mac, if the baby were to come just five days early ... I'd have the best birthday ever." I don't wait to get an acknowledgment. I leave the bathroom to make sure that Mattie and Ty are awake before I head to the kitchen to make everyone breakfast.

**IN ROUTE TO TY'S SCHOOL**

"Ty, your mom said that you got to meet Abigail and Samantha last Monday. What do you think about maybe having them for sisters?"

"I was hoping that you weren't going to ask me about them. I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know why she didn't like me."

"What makes you think that one of them didn't like you?"

"She wouldn't talk to me. I said hi. She didn't say anything. When we were drawing, I asked if she liked blue. She didn't say anything. When I asked if she'd like to come to my birthday party if I got to have a one this year, she didn't say anything then either. She didn't talk to me at all. Sami did, but she's little. Abigail talked only to Momma."

"I don't think that it's because she doesn't like you. She didn't talk to me when I met her, either. I think that she's just shy. I don't think that it has anything to do with whether or not she likes you ... and you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. You invited her to your birthday party, huh?"

"I thought that she'd ask me what kind of party or when my birthday was, but she didn't."

"So tell me, buddy, what kind of birthday party are you hoping to have this year?" I ask, already knowing the answer, but we're still a mile or two from the school, so I have more time to fill.

"I want a pizza party at that place where my friend, Jason, had his birthday."

**TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2007**

**DR. DANIELS' OFFICE**

**1145**

"Hello, Sarah, how are you feeling today?" Dr. Daniels says as she makes her way into her office with presumably Mac's medical record in her hand.

"I don't know whether it's knowing that I'm pregnant, the rest that I've been getting this past week since Harm came home or the vitamins, but I'm feeling much better, thank you."

"Harm, other than being disappointed that you weren't here last week to hear the news first-hand, may I assume that you're okay?"

"I'm good, but I am a little worried. Mac said that you asked her to come back this week to have her blood pressure checked. Is that a normal part of this?"

"No, it isn't, but I'm going to keep tabs on Sarah, so you don't have to worry. I have a book that I recommend to first time fathers. It covers all the norms and some of the 'what ifs.' I highly recommend that you read it to ease your mind. It's called, 'Conception to Birth: A Guide for First Time Parents'," she says as she writes it on a piece of paper and hands it to me. "Now, let's talk about Sarah and the baby."

Last week when I found out that Mac was pregnant, I wanted to tell anyone and everyone about the baby, but I'd agreed to keep it a secret at Mac's request. While listening to Dr. Daniels tell us that, though Mac's blood pressure was normal today, she was concerned that she'd lost another pound, I went from excited, expectant father to worried spouse, from wanting to tell everyone the good news to being fully on board and understanding of Mac's idea to wait until she was farther along to keep everyone from getting their hopes up just in case something went wrong.

I have to give credit to Dr. Daniels for being able to inform us of the symptoms of a possible miscarriage while not making us feel that it was something that she actually believed was going to occur. In fact, she spent time reassuring us that we needed to know what to look for, but that, with every day that passes, the chances of miscarriage decrease.

**SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 2007**

**BURNETT HOME  
DINING ROOM **

We've just sat down to dinner, and Mac and I keep glancing at each other. I think that we're both wondering if we made the right decision about not telling anyone about the baby.

It wasn't a problem not talking about it last Sunday, but having revisited the topic this morning after I reached the section of the book that Dr. Daniels had recommended that said that miscarriage was possible, but much more unusual after twelve weeks of pregnancy, we'd agreed that we wouldn't tell anyone until Mac had reached the twelveth week milestone.

Mac and I are in the middle of another questioning glance when the bowl of steamed broccoli is passed to her. She grasps the sides of the bowl before suddenly setting it down, shoving into my shoulder and dashing away from the table without warning or explanation.

Everyone at the table is looking at me for an explanation, but I'm not talking until I get clearance from headquarters.

"Excuse me. She's obviously not feeling well. I'll go check on her," I say to escape the pentrating stares from around the table.

I find her where I expected her to be when I noticed the look on her face as she bolted from the table - in the bathroom.

She's wiping her flushed face with a cool washcloth. I don't have to say a word.

When she lowers the washcloth, she says, "I don't want them to worry, so I think that we should tell them. I think that we can tell Mattie and your parents together after dinner, but the other book that you bought indicates that a more one-on-one talk with Ty may be best."

Mac and I return to the table. "I'm sorry. I just felt sick all of a sudden, but I'm fine now. Let's finish dinner," Mac says cheerfully.

We get intermittent curious glances from my mom and Frank. I think that they suspect what's going on, but we'll give them the formal announcement after dinner.

**AFTER DINNER**

Mac gets Ty settled into Frank's den to watch the cartoon network while I get my parents and Mattie to sit down together in the living room.

Mac is coming in the room towards me. "We'll tell Ty in a few minutes, but we want to tell all of you now." I stop, waiting for Mac to make it to my side so that we can make the announcement together.

As soon as my mother sees Mac coming around the end of the couch to join me, she asks, "Is it what we think it is?"

Mac and I smile.

"We weren't going to tell you for a few more weeks, but I guess the baby doesn't want to be kept a secret," Mac replies.

I don't know when my mother got so fast on her feet, but she has Mac in an embrace before it even registers to me that she stood up.

"I'm so happy for you. I know how much you've been hoping for a baby, and I've been hoping right along with you," my mother says in a low voice laced with tears.

After we've received congratulatory hugs from my parents and Mattie, it's time for us to tell Ty.

**FRANK'S DEN **

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Mac and I nervously enter the den. We've told him that we want a baby, but knowing that we want one and that we're going to have one are two different things.

"Ty, Momma and I want to tell you something."

Mac sits on the couch next to him, and I sit on the coffee table in front of him.

"You gonna tell me why Momma was sick?"

"Yeah," I say.

"You remember when we were on the farm, I told you that Momma and I wanted a baby?"

"Are we going to get one with Abigail and Sami?" Ty asks.

"No," I say, and Mac grasps Ty's hand and takes over for me.

"We aren't going to adopt a baby. Momma's going to have a baby," Mac explains.

"You mean that you have one in your belly?" Ty asks curiously.

"That's what I mean, all right," Mac replies.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Ty asks.

"We don't know yet," Mac answers.

"When is it going to get here?" he asks.

"It's going to be a while yet," Mac answers.

"Do Abigail and Samantha know that we're going to have a baby brother or sister?" he asks.

"No, we've told only your grandma, grandpa, Mattie and you, so far," I answer.

"If I have a birthday party, can we tell them then?" Ty asks.

"Buddy, Miss Rosa needs to know first, and she'll help pick the right time for the girls to know. Right now, we're telling only a few people so that no one worries if Mom gets sick to her stomach like at dinner, needs to take a nap, or something else that she normally doesn't do, okay?"

"Okay," he says before he asks if he has time to finish watching the cartoon that's on before we go home.

**TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 2007 **

**RABB HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

Since Mac has a doctor's appointment fairly early this morning, and I'm going with her, we decided that it didn't make sense to go to our offices first and meet an hour later at Dr. Daniels office, so we're going in to work after she sees the doctor.

Now that Mac is pregnant, she seems to need a lot more sleep than she ever did before. She used to be able to function on little or no sleep, but not anymore. So I got up to get Ty's breakfast and drive him to school so that Mac could sleep a little longer.

I sit on the edge of the bed next to Mac, not wanting to wake her just yet.

I watch her sleeping, and my stomach suddenly fills with fluttering butterflies. I don't think that I've ever been this nervous in my life. She's at the start of her eighth week of pregnancy, and today is her last visit with Dr. Daniels, the fertility specialist.

We've talked at great length about the problems that she might face during the pregnancy and, in talking about that, we've also considered the impact that her work schedule and adopting the girls might have on her health. It all seems to be a lot for her to have on her shoulders, and there's nothing that I can do to help her. I can't run her command, I can't carry the baby, and at least one of the girls isn't ready for a dad, so we've been wrestling with all the factors in trying to come to a decision on whether or not to proceed with adopting the girls.

The day after we told the family about the pregnancy, which would be eight days ago now, I made a call to Mrs. Morales to tell her about the baby.

We hoped that there might be some reason that, with the addition of the baby, we'd be ineligible to adopt at this time and we wouldn't have to choose - the decision would be made for us that Abigail and Samantha would have to be placed with someone else. However, Mrs. Morales informed me that a baby coming didn't change things as far as the agency was concerned because our home has adequate room and we have the income to support a large family. After telling us that she wouldn't pull the application because of the pregnancy, she did say that, since Mac was having a baby, if we wanted to withdraw our application, she would certainly understand.

I ended that call with, "Thank you, and we'll see the girls at Ty's birthday party."

In the few days that followed that call, Mac and I have talked more specifically about what would be best for the girls now that the baby's coming, assuming that Mac has a relatively easy pregnancy and no health concerns arise.

Since, even under the best conditions, we know going in that they'll need extra attention to make them feel like part of our family and that, once the baby arrives, our limited time will reduce that attention, we don't see how it would be fair to the girls to start something that we might not be able to finish.

I think that we've come to the conclusion that it's in Mac's, our baby's and the girls' best interests not to pursue adopting them at this time.

With Ty mentioning on a regular basis that he's looking forward to seeing the girls again, we've been dragging our feet in telling anyone that we won't be adopting the girls. I think another part of it is that we'd like to see them one more time, and I think it's because we need time to understand why, even when our life seems blessed with all that we have and the baby that we wanted on the way, it has to come with the price of leaving those two little girls behind. We need to understand or at least come to terms with why it has to be this way before we can explain it to anyone else, especially a seven, almost eight-year old Tyler.

Mac starts to stir. I take in a breath and let it out, trying to blow away the dark cloud that my thoughts have left hanging over me before she opens her eyes.

Her eyes open, and I'm ready.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" I ask with a forced cheerfulness.

In a yawn, she replies, "Good. Did you have any problems getting Ty to school?"

"No, he didn't say anything this morning about the girls coming to his birthday party," I answer.

"I know that we need to tell him that they aren't going to be his sisters, but I can't seem to get up the courage. I think that he's going to be really disappointed," she says as she sits up.

"We need to tell him soon. The longer we wait, the harder it'll be," I remind her.

"I know." The room falls silent for a moment. Then I feel her hand on my arm as she speaks softly. She isn't looking at me. Her eyes are fixed at some point on the comforter. "Harm, if something happens ... I mean, if for some reason I can't have this baby, can we adopt the girls?"

I straighten my back and speak confidently. "You and the baby are going to be fine."

She looks at me with sad eyes that remind me so much of Abigail's. "That's what I want, but what if ... ?" she asks.

I don't want to acknowledge the possibility that something could happen to our baby, but I know that she needs me to answer her question, so I respond, "Yes, we can."

After another few moments of silence, I pat the hand that she has on my arm. "It's time to get up. We have a doctor's appointment to go to this morning," I say before standing up to let her get up more easily.

**HARM'S CORVETTE**

**END OF THE WORK DAY**

**IN ROUTE HOME**

After Mac's appointment, I went to the office and slowly began to feel better.

Dr. Daniels gave us all the information that she could, and the bottom line is, at the moment, Mac and the baby are fine.

Mac's blood pressure was normal, and though she didn't gain any weight, she hadn't lost any more either, which Dr. Daniels said was a good sign. However, Dr. Daniels said that she didn't want to take any chances and that, because of many factors: Mac's age, her weight loss instead of gain and her endometriosis, she's going to recommend that Mac see an OB who specializes in at-risk and high-risk pregnancies.

With the name of Mac's OB in hand and her first appointment set for a month from now, we left Dr. Daniels office for the last time.

"I know that you don't need me any more, but I always like to see how my work turned out, so please bring the baby by to see me," the doctor said as we left.

After letting everything really sink into my brain over the course of the day, I feel better about the chances of Mac having this baby, but the news that she'd be seeing someone who specializes in difficult pregnancies has helped me in a different way. The information has me convinced that we made the right decision when we decided not to adopt the girls at this time. It would be just too much for Mac to handle all at once.

**RABB HOME**

**JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT**

The ringing of the phone echoes through the quiet house.

In my sleep, I want to silence the noise before it wakes my entire family, so I reluctantly release my wife and roll over towards my bedside table, reaching for the object that's making the offensive noise.

"Rabb."

"Captain Rabb, this is Special Agent Walters. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need your insights here."

"About what and where?" I ask Walters.

A few minutes later, I'm off the phone and carefully lifting up the covers to lay them easily back on the bed, trying to get out of bed without waking Mac. I've just sat up with my feet on the floor when I hear Mac's sleepy voice.

"Who was it?" she asks.

"Agent Walters, you remember him. I introduced him to you at Vern's retirement party. He's one of the agents that Vern had in his "newbie" group. He got a field position when they restructured the NCIS teams following former Agent Sinclair's arrest and imprisonment," I answer as I turn on the bedside lamp to get dressed since she's awake.

I hear a mumbled "oh," or at least something that sounds like that just before I stand to get dressed and hear her ask, "Where are you going?"

"I'm headed to a military housing address."

"Why are you headed there in the middle of the night? You aren't an agent." She sounds angry.

I turn around and bend at the knee, leaning on the edge of the bed. "Power down, Marine. I don't want your blood pressure to go up. I'm not an agent, but Walters is. He's still green and, since Vern retired, he runs a lot of things past me. He says that if Vern trusted me, that's all he needs to know about me. I'm not going to investigate anything. I'm going to advise an agent on legal matters, things like evidence gathering and chain of custody issues ... and that _is _my job." I lean in a little more and give her a kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She puts her palm on her abdomen. "We'll be waiting," she says before offering me a tired smile.

**1500 NIMITZ WAY**

**MILITARY HOUSING **

**FORTY MINUTES LATER**

Agent Walters is pacing near his car at the end of the street as I pull my car up behind his.

My headlights make him aware that I've arrived, and he's made his way to the front of my car by the time I've opened the door to get out.

"Walters, you said something on the phone about a fire and a body. You want to fill me in on the parts in between that are fuzzy now that I'm awake?" I say once I'm out of the car.

"Walk with me," he says. "I'm sure that you already know that some of the bases here in San Diego don't have enough available area to accommodate housing. So this government maintained community serves as housing, which, even though it isn't on a base, is government property with military personnel housed here. Thus, the rules and regulations of living here are the same as if it were in the middle of any base in the world."

We're now closer to the burned out home. "So who lived here?"

"Chief Bernard Hickle and his wife, Dawn." He points to a man leaning against the trunk of a car in the driveway. "That's him. The chief says that he smelled smoke, so he woke up his wife and told her to get out of the house. He said that she got up saying that she wasn't going outside in her nightgown. He said that he was telling her not to worry about getting dressed while he was dialing 911 to report the fire. He said that, after he hung up the phone, he told her that, dressed or not, they had to get out of there. He says that she said that she needed shoes, but he told her that the fire department was on the way and that it was time to get out because the smoke was getting really thick. The chief says that she took a couple of steps towards him, and he thought that she was following him out. He got outside okay, but she never came out of the house."

"Sounds plausible, so why did you want me?"

"The fire department called in NCIS when they found out that there was a possible victim inside. It's SOP when there's a death involved. The fire investigator who's here says that he'll have his official report to us in a few days, a week tops. His initial assessment is that the fire was caused by an electrical short, but says that alone wouldn't cause the excessive damage in the time it took for the fire department to get here. He says that he'll be here a while longer, but he suspects that an accelerant was used, and that alone makes me suspicious that the woman's death was no accident, but there's more. Our crime scene investigation unit showed up to take pictures and gather evidence based on the possibility that it was arson, but when they got a look at the body, they weren't convinced that she died as a result of the fire. I want to know how far you think that I should push the victim's husband for answers tonight."

"Have you got any evidence that he started the fire or had something to do with his wife's death?"

"Nothing solid. I mean, he's the only one other than his wife who was here. His wife can't tell us if he's telling us the truth about the events leading up to her death. I just don't believe him. I'm a single guy, but I've got to think that, if I'd just lost my wife, I'd be upset, you know, shed a few tears, be angry, something, but he's had no reaction."

"It isn't uncommon for someone in shock to have no emotional reaction, so I wouldn't give that much weight without more tangible evidence. I suggest that you wait to see what the autopsy report has to say about the cause of death before questioning him any further. It will also give him some time to let the shock wear off. Just be sure that you know where to find him when you _are _ready to question him."

"Yes, sir. That sounds like a good idea. Thanks for coming down."

**WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 2007 **

**RABB HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**JUST AFTER THREE IN THE MORNING **

I enter the bedroom in the dark, not wanting to wake Mac from her much needed slumber.

I strip off my uniform as I make my way to the bed.

I think that I've been successful at not waking her until I wrap my arm around her, preparing to assume the comfortable position that I was in before the phone rang a little more than three hours ago.

"Well, what kind of crime are you investigating now?"

I have to yawn before I can get out an answer. "Too early to know really, but it looks like a case of arson, and there was also a fatality, so it could turn out to be more. That's why Walters called me. He's really nervous about this turning into his first murder investigation and he wanted advice about how much to question the victim's husband tonight."

"Not an agent…not going to investigate…face it, you can't help yourself," she mumbles in reply.

If anyone caused the woman's death, whether by setting the fire or by other means, I want the case to be solid against them. Agent Walters is less experienced than someone who I'd like to see working a case like this, so she's right. I _am_ going to be involved in this investigation.

I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck. "Can I face it in a couple of hours? I need at least two more hours of sleep before we have to get up and really start this day," I say, brushing my lips against her skin as I speak.

My eyes are drifting closed, and I'm getting close to sleep when I hear her say, "Sure, Sailor, you can face it in the morning."


	5. Chapter 5

**PART TWO – Second Thoughts**

**MONDAY, MARCH 19, 2007 **

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1400**

**HARM'S POV**

"Captain Rabb," Agent Walters begins as he enters my office. "I just got the fire inspector's report on the blaze on Nimitz Way. I brought you a copy." He hands me a piece of paper before he takes a seat in front of my desk.

"Any surprises in the fire inspector's report?" I ask as I begin to look over my copy to form my own opinion of its contents.

"It's pretty much just a repeat of what the fire inspector gave us the night of the fire, no surprises, but a couple of useful details. The fire started in one of the secondary bedrooms when a short from a frayed lamp cord caused a box of papers and photos near it to catch fire."

I look up from reading my copy to look at him. His face is lit up like he's solved everything with that news. "This information helps you how?" I ask.

"The chief's an electronics technician. He could easily have rigged the lamp to start the fire."

"From what you've told me so far, you don't have a crime. You have an accidental fire."

"I left out something. The report also says…let me find it," he says as he looks at his copy to find the information that he wants to share.

He must find what he's looking for because, several seconds later, he begins to read from the report. "The fire started in a secondary bedroom. A short from a frayed cord on a lamp caught a box of papers and photos near the lamp on fire, but the fire intensity and rate of burn indicates that the fire was accelerated by some type of flammable liquid, which means that this fire was set or, at minimum, deliberately fueled to cause more damage."

"Okay, sounds like you've got either arson or destruction of government property, but the chief being an ET isn't enough to make him guilty. You need to be careful. It seems to me that, because you don't think that the chief had a proper emotional response to his wife's death, you're trying to make the evidence fit him. You need to get that thought out of your head and let the information that you gather lead you to the guilty party."

"But I just know that he murdered his wife."

"See what I mean? You don't have any evidence that she was murdered, and you're already saying that she was and that her husband did it."

"What do you think happened, sir?"

"I haven't drawn any conclusions yet. You have only the chief's statement and the fire inspector's report so far. After you get the autopsy report, you'll have her cause of death, and then you can decide what you need to do from there."

"But if the fire was set or fueled by someone on purpose, that makes her death murder, doesn't it?"

"No. You'd need evidence that the fire was set or fueled to cause her death for it to be murder. Suppose you get the autopsy report and the cause of death was smoke inhalation, and her tox screen says that she had some kind of drug or alcohol in her blood. When you add that to the chief's statement, the scenario might be that she was following him out and tripped because she wasn't fully functioning because of a drug in her system, for instance sleeping pills. The fire would be a contributing factor in her death, but not murder. Do you see what I mean about trying to make a case from one report?"

"If this was your case, sir, what would you be doing?"

"I'd be waiting for the autopsy report to find out how Mrs. Hickle died. If there's no evidence of murder, then you'd be wasting a lot of time looking for a motive for a murder that didn't happen."

"Thank you for your time. Do you have any second thoughts about letting me ask you about this stuff, sir?"

"None, so I expect you back here when you get the tox screen and autopsy reports."

**TUESDAY, MARCH 20, 2007 **

**STOLI'S DELI**

**1150 **

Since I found out about the baby and Mac's weight loss, I've tried to be subtle about making sure that Mac's eating by having her meet me for lunch once a week. My strategy is that, since I see her at breakfast and dinner every day and even lunch on the weekends, her weekday lunch is the only meal that she could skip without me knowing about it. If she meets me and her friend Peggy one day each week, I figure, even if she skips lunch the other three workdays, she'll have a better weigh-in when we go to the doctor the next time.

When we meet at Stoli's for lunch, I usually get here a couple of minutes before she does, and today is no exception. When I do see her walk in the door at ten minutes to twelve, she doesn't have her usual Marine, square-shouldered, proud bearing. Her shoulders are slumping and she looks upset. I stand and move towards her and the counter where they take your order. When I get closer, she looks… I don't know, maybe distracted…yes, but something else…afraid? What happened between my call earlier today to confirm our lunch and now?

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" I ask as I put my hand on her shoulder to make contact with her.

Lost ... that's how she looks. So I start to guide her closer to the counter by grasping her elbow. She looks up at me, but I don't think that she heard me. She was simply responding to my touch. Now that she's looking at me, I ask again, "Are you okay?"

"No, yes, I need some air."

I use my grip on her elbow to keep contact and guide her to the door leading to the patio.

Once we're outside, I lead her to a seat at the last available table.

She must see the concern in my eyes when I pull a chair close to her and take a seat, because I don't have to ask again what's wrong. She takes my hand and begins to explain.

"Don't worry. The baby and I are fine." One lone tear makes an appearance under her eye. I lift my hand and, as my thumb wipes away the tear, she tries to break the heavy mood with humor. "I've been sick only that one time so far, but I'll be glad when the hormone waterworks stop. I'm going to give the Corps a bad reputation."

"The Marines have been around for more than two hundred years. They'll survive this blemish on their record," I tease back.

She offers a slight smile. "Not when it's discovered that the Navy is responsible for doing this to me."

"Cute, Marine."

She gives me that look, the one that says "got ya," and I smile.

"Harm, Ty mentioned the girls coming to his birthday party again this morning while I was driving him to school. I know that we've decided not to adopt the girls, but I want Ty to have a nice party, and he really wants them there, so I did something that I probably shouldn't have."

"You called Mrs. Morales?"

"Yes, but only to ask her if she was still planning to bring the girls to the party, and then I found myself asking her questions that I now know that I shouldn't have asked."

"What questions did you ask?"

"Well, first I asked how they were doing. She said that Sami had been asking when we - more specifically you - were coming to see her again. Then I asked her, since the two of you had talked a couple of weeks ago about the fact that we were going to have a baby, if she was still planning to bring the girls to Ty's birthday party. She said that you hadn't mentioned not bringing the girls when the two of you had spoken. She said that she thought that Sami would benefit from seeing us, and that, since Abigail didn't form attachments easily, it wouldn't have any effect on her. So, unless we didn't want her to bring them because we'd made a firm decision about not moving forward with the adoption, she planned to bring them."

"So you told her that we'd made a decision and that she didn't have to bring the girls, and you're upset because you've told someone, so it's real now."

"I know that I should have been stronger ... I should've told her that I wanted to talk to you first, but ... Ty's been wanting to see them, and I didn't have the heart to tell her. There are a lot of things that I should have said, but ... "

"You told her to bring them to the party," I say, trying to get the information from Mac.

She gives me an affirmative nod in response before she starts to give me an explanation for her actions.

"Ty was just talking about seeing them again with such excitement this morning, and then finding out that Sami's been asking about you, and there's something about Abigail that I can't explain, but I want to see her again. I can't help it. I'm having second thoughts about not moving forward with the adoption. "Please, don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry. It's okay," I inform her and I'm not angry with her, but I _am_ having my own emotional struggle with the subject matter.

I was set to adopt both girls weeks ago, in fact, right up until the doctor said that Mac's pregnancy could have complications.

I make brief eye contact with Mac and I have to look away. Her eyes have that sad look in them, the same one that I see when I look at Abigail, and I wonder momentarily if that's the 'something' that Mac sees in this child.

I can't let her think that I'm angry with her, so I confess, "I'm just worried about what seeing them again will do to me, that's all."

"Harm, I want us to talk some more about adopting them. There has to be a way for us to have the girls and our baby. We finally found a way to make us work. We can think of a way to make this work, too."

"Speaking of work, let's get you some lunch before we both have to go back to work. We'll talk more about it later when we have a little more privacy. What would the two of you like to dine on?"

I get a small smile as she puts her hand on her still flat stomach before informing me, "We'd like the turkey club."

**THURSDAY, MARCH 22, 2007**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1115**

I'd just gotten off the phone concerning another NCIS matter when my intercom buzzes and I'm told that Agent Walters would like to see me.

"Send Agent Walters in," I reply to PO Burns.

He enters my office, and I throw two questions his way.

"What brings you by today? Did you get the autopsy report on Mrs. Hickle?"

"Yes, sir," Walters answers.

Walters presents me with a few sheets of paper, and I take them and begin to scan the documents while he talks about the top page, the toxicology report. "There were no drugs found in her system, sir. I guess that eliminates one theory."

I agree with his assessment of the first page and flip it over to reveal the next page, the first page of the autopsy report. I scan over the first few lines and, so far, there's nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary.

"There were two wounds noted to the head, one being the fatal one. The official cause of death is listed as blunt force trauma. Fragments of wood in the wounds indicate that both wounds were the result of being hit on the head by a piece of wood," Agent Walters says as I flip the first page over to look at the diagram of the location of the two wounds on the victim's head.

"She had two head wounds in clearly different places, but both had wood fragments in them. That doesn't make any sense. If some part of the framing of the house fell and hit her on the back of the head, she'd fall forward and hit the carpeted floor. A blow to the front of her head would cause her to fall backward and the back of her head would hit the floor. Either way, one of the wounds would have been from hitting the floor, so there wouldn't be wood fragments in both wounds. The way the wound towards the front of her head is described, it may have slowed her down, but it shouldn't have knocked her out. Maybe she got hit in the head by a falling board in the front, and then she got hit with another one on the back of her head before she got out of the house," I say out loud as I begin to make my list of possible scenarios.

"Do you ever see a crime when you look over these things, sir?" Walters asks in a way that doesn't sound like he appreciates my way of running scenarios that don't indicate that a crime has been committed.

"Sometimes, but most of the time, it isn't as clear cut as they make it look on TV. You can't always be sure that there's been a crime, but when you read over this stuff, you look for clues."

"For instance," he says.

"There's no mention of smoke inhalation or lung damage in the autopsy report. You dismissed the tox screen report after reading that it didn't reveal that there were any drugs in her system, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't contain useful information. You should look at it for signs of how much smoke she took in. If there were no traces of smoke or carbon monoxide in her system, then another theory would be that she was struck by a board, since the autospy said that it was the cause of death, but was dead before the fire ever started, or at least started to spread."

"So you really look at it from all angles, don't you?"

"I try to," I answer.

I've been reading the report, looking for something else that will give him another example of what I mean about keeping an open mind as he moves through these preliminary stages of the investigation, but I find information that makes me sick to my stomach instead.

The victim, Dawn Hickle, was sixteen weeks pregnant. I need him to go away for a little while so that I can rein in my anger. Now that I know that she was pregnant, he doesn't get just an advisor, he gets a partner.

"Walters, I was working on something else when you came in. Why don't you go have a talk with the coroner while I clear up a few things? Ask her about smoke in the lungs. Have her tell you what, if anything, was found in her blood that would substantiate it. That should tell us if our theory about the victim being dead before the fire started holds any water. By the time you finish speaking with her, I should have what I'm working on wrapped up. So come back here and fill me in on what she says."

"Yes, sir."

"And one more thing. When you come back, bring the whole file."

"What did you see, sir?"

"I'm not sure that I saw anything, but it will help me to help you if I review everything that you have so that I can put everything into perspective."

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1422**

Agent Walters is back, and he enters my office with a huge grin. "You're good, sir. I talked to the coroner. She said that the lungs had minimal signs of smoke inhalation. That means that the victim died after the fire started, but she wasn't alive long enough for the fire to cause damage to her lungs."

"And that, Agent Walters, moves this case from unknown to suspicious in nature because, how do you get hit once, let alone twice by falling debris while trying to escape a burning house and not have breathed in more than a minimal amount of smoke?"

"I've got more for you. I asked the coroner a lot of questions about the head wounds and I learned a lot. The smaller gash, the one that's more to the front and side of her face, had no bruising. She determined that it happened near the time of her death since there hadn't been time for the body to form a bruise. I also found out that the smaller gash had ash and wood particles in it. However, the large wound at the back of the head, had only wood splinters, but no ash." He places the complete file that he's brought with him on my desk and opens it. He lifts a picture out of the photos taken by the crime scene unit. "She was found with a piece of partially charred wood lying near her body. It looks to me like it's possible that it could have dropped from above and hit her before landing where it is in the photo. I went to the crime scene guys before I came over here. They're going to run some simulations through the computer to test my theory about the board's location, but they probably won't have anything for us for a few days."

"You're learning. You need to use the resources available to you."

"I want to thank you, sir. I know that you could have called Landon and told him that I wasn't a good choice for a field agent and probably gotten me pulled off this case ... hell, maybe even out of the field completely. I'll admit to getting a little freaked out at the idea of having my first murder case, but my head is back in the game and, after talking to the coroner, I do think that I have a murder case."

"And based on what you've just told me, I'd have to agree with you - a double murder, if we push the limits on the interpretation of the law."

"Double murder, sir?"

"Yes, you didn't read the fine print in the autopsy report? The victim was sixteen weeks pregnant The next thing that we should do is to start gathering information on the victim."

"We, sir?"

"Yes, Walters, you now have a partner who's working with you on this investigation."

"Okay, where do you want to start?"

"The job now is to start delving into the life of the victim for possible suspects. Has the body been released by the coroner yet?"

"No, sir, probably tomorrow. Why?"

"Because funeral homes don't usually have the obituaries published until they know when the funeral is going to be held. You can learn a lot about a victim from their obituary. For instance, it tells you if parents are still alive and, if so, the city and state where they live, same with surviving siblings ... and family members might be able to give us insights into her life and, specifically, her marriage. Call the coroner and ask her to let you know which funeral home picks up the body."

"Can't we just ask her husband those things?"

"Asking the chief those questions will make him ask why we want to know, and I don't want to tell him just yet that we suspect that his wife was murdered. While I look over the rest of the file here, why don't you call Chief Hickle and make an appointment to see him tomorrow?"

"I'm confused, sir. I thought that you just said that you didn't want to question him yet."

"I don't want to ask him questions that will awaken his curiosity. If he's guilty and he thinks that he's answering routine questions, he'll be cooperative, and the more he talks, the more of a chance we'll have to pick up on inconsistencies in his story. If he asks you why you want to see him, tell him that sometimes people remember new details a few days after a tragic event and that it's just routine for us to go over his statement again. Tell him that we just want to get everything wrapped up as quickly as we can."

Walters makes the call and sets up an appointment for 1000 tomorrow, and then we spend until 1615, reading over Chief Hickle's statement and looking over the crime scene photos before we call it a day.

**RABB HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM  
BEDTIME**

Mac is going through part of her new nightly ritual of putting lotion on her arms, hands and legs, claiming that her skin is drying out already and it's barely spring. She says that she'll look like a lizard before summer if she doesn't start to apply lotion now.

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that she's talking about dry skin. I spent thirty minutes last night telling her about a charity golf tournament at Frank's club that I was thinking about signing up for. Dry skin, work, golf - I want to talk about anything other than 'the girls'. I've successfully avoided the topic for the last two nights and I'm hoping to make it three in a row.

Mac is getting into bed. Depending on how she positions herself once she's in bed, I'll know if she's going to want to talk or not.

She's pulling the covers up ... now she's going to ... damn, she's just sitting there. She wants to talk about something.

"Harm ... " she says sweetly " ... you remember when you came home from your quals and you told me that you thought that it might be time to give up your wings?"

"Yes, you told me to think about it carefully before I made my final decision."

"Correct, well, if I wanted to change the direction of my career, if I thought about it long and hard and weighed my options, the decision would be mine to make just like flying is your choice, right?"

"Yes, your career is your career, so if you were sure about a direction you wanted it to take, you'd have my support. Why are you asking? Thinking about switching designations and becoming a Huey pilot?" I ask with a grin.

"No," she laughs. "I've been thinking about a non-military career. I checked to make sure that I'd done my math correctly and I have. I'm eligible for retirement at twenty years in May. If I put in my papers in the next couple of weeks, I think that I could make a good case for them to shorten the normal time of nine to twelve months that it usually takes for retirement approval to have them let me go when my orders at JLS are up at the beginning of October or, at the very least, I could start my terminal leave then and be officially retired by the end of the year. I'd be retiring after earning accolades for a very successful start to a new concept of a joint JAG office, I've made colonel, and the best part is, I wouldn't have to go back to work after my maternity leave is up."

"You'd have to do another year to collect O-6 retirement pay," I remind her.

"I checked on that, too. There isn't a big difference in retirement pay between O-5 and O-6, and we'd be saving in other areas. I wouldn't be going back and forth to work everyday, so there's gasoline expense saved there. When we talked about adopting the girls, we looked at the cost of day care versus a nanny for Sami's care. If I continued to work for the extra year, we'd have to have one of those for the new baby, and I understand that the price of day care for a newborn is even greater than it would be for Sami. Another thing, if I'm working, I might not be the first one to see him or her smile for the first time or laugh or take their first step, and I want to be there for that, Harm. Then there's a practical side. Your orders are up in another year. If I'm out by the end of this year, or even if I can't persuade them to let me out before the twelve months, I'll be out by the time you're transferred and be able to go wherever you're sent without any red tape."

"You've mentioned retiring before, and I know that I didn't sound supportive then, but, at the time, you didn't convince me that it was what you really wanted to do, but it's different this time. It sounds like you've given it a lot more thought. I'm behind your decision either way, but before you submit any paperwork, I want you to think about how you'll feel if I'm still in the military and you aren't. Giving up my wings is one thing, but I'm not ready to retire yet. So you need to be sure that you can handle me working in a job that you used to have. After you think that over, if your decision is that you still want to retire, then you need to do it."

"I love you," she says as she starts to snuggle close.

"And I love you," I respond as I wrap her in my arms.


	6. Chapter 6

**PART THREE – Saying Goodbye**

**FRIDAY, MARCH 23, 2007 **

**RABB HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**2000**

**HARM'S POV**

After my morning meeting, Walters and I started our interviews with the chief. In our interview today, his retelling of the events were almost word for word the same as the statement that he'd given Walters the night of the fire, leaving us to believe that he'd rehearsed it.

Our next stop was the funeral home, which was handling the arrangements for Mrs. Hickle.

During that stop, we learned that Chief Hickle had signed over a life insurance policy to the funeral home to cover expenses. The policy is in the amount of ten thousand dollars and, according to the funeral director, the current estimate of the cost of Mrs. Hickle's services and burial would take most of that unless Chief Hickle made major cuts when they met this afternoon to finalize the arrangements for his wife's funeral, which is to be held on Saturday. The other information that we acquired at the funeral home is that the victim's parents are still alive and that she has two sisters, one of whom lives in Riverside, California.

A call to the sister in Riverside got us an appointment to see her after lunch.

During the course of interviewing the sister, she said that the only bone of contention of which she was aware between her sister and her husband was the baby. She said that her sister had confided in her that she didn't think that her husband was happy about becoming a father, and it had really hurt her sister when he hadn't gone with her a few weeks ago to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time.

A back up on I-15 headed back to San Diego gave Walters and me plenty of time to discuss what would be our next move.

Suspecting that the chief had rehearsed his statement is certainly a red flag for investigators, but not evidence . The insurance policy was for ten thousand dollars, which, even without funeral expenses, wouldn't be enough money to kill for, leading us to wonder if there's a second life insurance polcy. A look at the chief's bank accounts might give us a clearer picture of the Hickle's financial situation.

With the traffic delaying us, we got back from Riverside so late in the day that we're going to have to wait until Monday to look at Chief Hickle's financial records and check to see if there are any other insurance policies on Mrs. Hickle's life. However, that doesn't mean that there's nothing to do over the weekend. Since Walters was so struck by the lack of Hickle's emotional response on the night of his wife's death, I suggested that he attend her funeral to observe the chief's demeanor there. It will be interesting to note if there's been any change.

With a day in the field that didn't result in any evidence to suggest that we're moving in the right direction, I'm glad to be finally relaxing with Mac and Ty now that dinner is over and the dishes are done.

I wondered why Ty was in such a hurry to take a bath and get into his pajamas so soon after dinner, but the answer is soon revealed when I ask, "Since Mattie's out on a date with Paul, what are the three of us going to do this evening?"

Ty is all smiles as he says, "Momma and I know."

"I saw an ad in the TV section of Sunday's paper for a special on dinosaurs on the History Channel. When I showed it to Ty, he wanted to watch it, too. They're showing both one hour parts back to back tonight."

"That explains why you were in such a hurry to get ready for bed. You want to be able to watch the entire program without having to get ready for bed in the middle of it," I say to Ty.

He laughs, "Momma said that I could watch it if I was ready to go to bed as soon as the show was over."

**ALMOST TWO HOURS LATER **

We hear the door open and close, but it surprises us when Mattie comes into the living room.

"What are you guys watching?"

"A show about dinosaurs," Ty responds.

"But it'll be over in about ten minutes if you came home early to watch something," I say.

"I'm not interested in watching TV," Mattie states as she takes a seat facing the television and starts to stare at the screen.

The four of us sit in silence until the credits start to roll on the program that we were all watching.

"Okay, Buddy, it's time for bed," I say.

"Okay," Ty says and gets off the couch.

As Ty leads the procession, Mac gets up to follow us, and I hear Mac say to Mattie, "We let him stay up late to watch the show, so we're just tucking him in. We'll be back in a couple of minutes to talk."

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

We return to the living room, and Mattie has indeed stayed in the room, so she must want to talk.

Mac places her hand on Mattie's shoulder when we get close to the chair in which she's sitting.

"Mattie, why are you home so early?" Mac asks.

When Mattie lifts her head, we see the tears rolling down her face. "Paul and I had a fight," she says, looking at Mac.

Mac sits on the arm of the chair, and I move around to sit on the coffee table across from them.

"What was the fight about?" Mac asks.

"Everything," she says with a heavy sigh as a fresh wave of tears begins to make their way down her cheeks.

"You want to be a little more specific?" I ask.

Mac gives me a look. "Harm, why don't you go get Mattie some Kleenex?"

"I want to know what happened, too," I say, which gets me another look. "I'll go get the Kleenex," I finally reply, deciding to comply with Mac's unspoken plea to leave them alone for a few minutes.

I return moments later to find that Mac and Mattie have moved to the couch. Mattie is literally crying on her shoulder.

"Here's a box of Kleenex," I say, wondering what I've missed as I sit down on the coffee table across from them again.

Mattie reaches out and pulls a Kleenex from the box that I've just placed down next to me on the coffee table.

"Thanks," she says before she wipes her tears away with the tissue. "I think that I can talk about it now," she says, and I know that I didn't miss any of the explanation, just the crying part. I owe Mac a thanks for that.

"We were at the mall just looking around when he said that he didn't want to go for the usual dinner and a movie tomorrow night. He said that there was a college frat party that he wanted to go to. I told him that we didn't have to do dinner and a movie, but that I didn't want to go to the party. He asked me why. I reminded him that Ty's birthday party is on Sunday and I didn't want to be out late on Saturday night. Then he cut me off. He started saying that I focus too much on my family and not enough on him. He said that he puts me first. He could be attending parties and having a few beers to relax with his friends after a week of classes, but he doesn't get to go because I don't want to go. That's when he said something that made me wonder why I've been with him for the last year. I was so angry that I just walked away. I've never been so glad in my life that I had a car and met him at the mall after school instead of him picking me up."

"What did he say?" I ask.

"He said that he couldn't have any fun because my father's a drunk." There are definite signs of sadness and betrayal in her eyes. "I told him all about my dad when I got back home after Christmas. I wanted him to understand why I didn't want to go to his college parties. I wanted him to understand why I was going to apply to his school, SDSU, but I was also applying to Virginia Tech to be closer to my dad. I explained that, since drinking has ruined my dad's liver and I don't know how long he's going to be around, I want to spend as much time with him as I can, but he didn't understand and, after tonight, I'm not sure that he even tried." She stops for a few moments and then she says, "The fight, the crying and the talking has worn me out. I'm going to go to my room and try to get some sleep."

After Mattie leaves the room, I look at Mac. "I didn't tell her about the seriousness of Tom's liver condition, did you?"

"No, I suspect that what Tom did tell her gave her enough information to do one of her internet searches to fill in the blanks."

**SUNDAY, MARCH 25, 2007 **

**RABB HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**1215**

Ty and I are ready and waiting in the living room for the ladies of the house to join us so that we can leave for the pizza place where Ty is having his birthday party.

The sound of the doorbell has Ty and me looking at each other questioningly. Anyone who knows us knows that we're going to be out today.

When I open the door, I find a disheveled Paul. His hair doesn't look like it's been combed, his clothes are a wrinkled mess, and I don't think that his shirt is buttoned correctly.

"Paul?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't show up at the beach yesterday for our swim, but Mattie and I had a fight on Friday night, and I was still a little steamed. Is Mattie here?"

"Yes, but we're all getting ready to leave for Tyler's birthday party."

"Sir, I've been trying to call her since yesterday when I realized what a jerk I was to her, but she doesn't answer her phone. When I call the house, you tell me that she doesn't want to talk to me. Please let me speak to her for a few minutes," Paul begs.

"After the half a dozen voice mails that you left me throughout the day, when I got home from work, I told them to tell you that I didn't want to talk to you," Mattie says as she moves closer to the door. She obviously heard his request when she came to tell us that she was ready to go.

"Mattie, let me drive you to Ty's birthday party like we'd planned. I can apologize to you on the way over, and then we can go to dinner and a movie a day late," Paul suggests.

"No, we can't. I can't forgive you for what you said, or maybe it was the way you said it, but I don't want to see you any more," Mattie replies before shutting the door.

I put my arm around her shoulders. She turns into me and gives me a hug before looking up at me. "You were right. You just know, but saying goodbye still hurts."

**THE BROADWAY **

**EL CAJON, CA**

**1315 **

Ty's friends have arrived, the woman in charge of his party has handed out tokens, and the children have disappeared to play games until the pizza is ready.

Ty has waited for his friends to get their tokens and go off to spend them, so, with only the four us left, he asks, "Mattie, will you come with me?"

"Don't you want Harm or Mac to come with you?" Mattie asks.

"Maybe later, but they need to stay here to wait for Miss Rosa so they can give Abigail and Sami their tokens."

Just like that, my party mood takes a downward turn. It isn't seeing them that worries me. It's saying goodbye and knowing that we aren't planning to see them again after today that makes me apprehensive about them coming.

As Mattie and Ty walk away from us, I hear Ty tell Mattie, "We can play anything but Skeeball. I have to play that with Dad." That helps to lift my spirits.

Mac and I sit together at a table, holding hands. The sounds of the games and the children's laughter fill the air, keeping us from being in complete silence.

"I reminded her the other day that the party was at one. It's now fifteen minutes after. Maybe she decided not to bring them," Mac says, breaking the silence between us.

"Maybe," I say, but with a certain sadness because, for the first time, I realize how much I'm looking forward to seeing them again.

Mac leans her head against my shoulder, and we fall silent once again, but the moment is short-lived when I see two brown-haired girls heading our way with Mrs. Morales following closely behind them.

I give Mac's hand a squeeze. "They're here," I announce.

Mac lifts her head off my shoulder, preparing to greet them.

Once they've made their way to us, it isn't surprising to any of us that Sami is the first one to speak or that she addresses me.

"I didn't think I was going to see you again. I thought you forgot 'bout me."

"Sorry that I wasn't able to be there the last time, but I could never forget you." I'm rewarded with a bright smile for my remarks.

"Hello, Abigail," Mac says.

"Hello," she replies quietly.

"I'm sorry that I had to work and that I didn't get to see you at the art camp," I say to Abigail, but Sami responds.

"Did you know that I drawed you a picture?" Sami asks.

"Yes, I saw the picture that you drew, and the one that your sister drew, too. I thought that they were both very pretty."

Sami is eating up the attention, but Abigail hasn't said a word to me. I shouldn't feel too badly because she's said only one word to Mac.

Thinking that I'll try a different approach with Abigail, I turn and grab the handful of tokens left for them. "Why don't we go play a couple of games before they serve the pizza?"

Sami wraps her small hand around a couple of my fingers. "Let's go," she says, but I get no response from Abigail.

"Do you want to come with us, Abigail?" I still get no answer. I hand Mac half the tokens. "Maybe she'll want to go with you," I say before Sami and I go in search of a game for her to play.

**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

The pizza and my parents arrived before Mac could persuade Abigail to even look at any of the games.

With all of the children around the table, enjoying their pizza and soda, and with my parents to help chaperone, it seems like a good time for me to speak with Mrs. Morales about our decision not to adopt the girls.

Once Mac and I each had one of the girls with us, Mrs. Morales backed off to give us a chance to interact with them. Right now, she's sitting at another table observing, so it isn't difficult for me to get her alone. I just take my salad plate over to where she's sitting to eat my lunch. When I sit down, Mrs. Morales speaks first.

"You're eating only salad?" she asks.

"Yeah, my diet is mostly fresh vegetables and whole grains, but I do eat seafood, and I always eat turkey on Thanksgiving," I explain with a grin.

"Can I invite you to my house some night for dinner? I'd love for my two boys to meet you so that I could tell them that you grew that tall by eating your vegetables. Maybe I could get them to eat some once in awhile," she says with a chuckle.

I give her a smile. "If you think that it would help, just let me know when and where," I tease back.

She laughs. "Maybe if I'd known you when they were younger, but at fifteen and sixteen, I'm afraid that they're pretty set in their ways."

I nod and smile in response.

"I was watching you, your wife, your parents and Mattie help the girls and Ty settle in for lunch. You have a great support group for taking the girls, even with a baby coming."

I need to tell her, so I just dive right in. "Because of Mac's age and some other factors, her OB specializes in treating women whose pregnancies are at risk. Right now, things seem to be fine, but if things change and she needs bed rest, for instance, Mac wouldn't be able to care for the girls, and since Abigail isn't willing to even say hello to me, I'm afraid that we wouldn't be able to give them what they need. It wouldn't be fair to the girls to move forward in the process and have to pull out later after we've formed an attachment to them and they've had a chance to form one with us."

"I understand." She pauses. "When is your new addition due?"

"October 30th," I reply.

"Congratulations, and don't worry about the girls. I've made it my mission to find them a home. In fact, after our phone conversation a couple of weeks ago, I thought that you might be having second thoughts about adopting, so I let another couple meet them a few days ago."

Mac approaches the table where Mrs. Morales and I are seated. "I'm sorry. I was trying to get over here sooner, but Abigail didn't want to eat unless I sat next to her. Your mother and I finally got her to agree to eat if she could sit between your mom and Mattie. Sami, on the other hand, is over there wrapping Frank around her little finger at the moment." Then she pauses and looks at me. "Have you told her?" she asks.

"Yes, he's told me that you don't think that it's a good idea right now. I was just telling him that he shouldn't be too concerned because the girls met a new couple a few days ago," Mrs. Morales answers.

"They're good candidates, right?" Mac asks.

"Yes, both in their mid-thirties, no other children, and they've been married for six years." She chuckles. "It didn't register with me until just now, but I guess the girls must be destined to be the daughters of a lawyer. The man is a lawyer, and the wife runs a successful internet company from home."

"They're going to take both the girls, aren't they?" Mac asks.

"Things aren't that far along yet. They were like you in wanting only one child, but when they found out that Sami had a sibling, they met with both of them. It's only been a few days. I expect to hear from them next week after they've had some time to think it over, but I'm hopeful that they'll take both of them." She pauses. "Do you know why I think that you're the right parents for the girls?"

Mac and I shake our heads.

"It's because you didn't say that you don't want them since you're having your own baby. Instead, what I heard you say is that you don't want them to be hurt. Even when you're telling me that you don't want to proceed, you want to know if the other couple is good enough to be their parents. Let me make an observation and give you something to think about before the girls and I have to leave. My observation is that, whether you're able to admit it or not, the two of you have already formed an attachment to those girls. Now, here's something else to consider. If you change your minds and decide that you do want to add them to your family, it would be better for the girls to do it as soon as possible so that they can prepare for the baby along with you ... and mourn with you if something unexpected should happen."

Mac and I look at each other, and we don't know what to say.

"It's your son's birthday. Have a great time with him, but think over what I've said and, if you do change your minds, let me know."

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

The pizza has been eaten, Ty's opened his presents, the cake has been cut, and the children have just finished eating it when Mrs. Morales taps me on the shoulder. "It's time for me to take the girls and go."

Saying goodbye to them is difficult for Mac and me.

Since Abigail always looks sad, I don't know if she's upset about having to go or it's just her usual demeanor.

Sami is different. When she pulls away from me at the end of our hug, she's got tears in her eyes.

"I don't want to go. Me want to stay with you," Sami says.

"I wish you could stay, too," I say before giving her another hug and putting her down. Then Abigail takes her hand, and, a few moments later, they're gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**PART FOUR – All We Need to Know**

**MONDAY, MARCH 26, 2007 **

**JLS**

**1125 **

**HARM'S POV**

'I should have called first' is my thought as I take a seat across from Coates, waiting for Mac to finish a meeting with two of her staff before I can see her.

I open my notebook portfolio and start to look over my notes.

When I headed over here, it was to do some brainstorming with the best partner that I've ever had. However, when I see the box that I've drawn around the words 'sixteen weeks pregnant,' I have to wonder if coming here was a good idea.

When two people walk past me out of her office, I know that I can't make a getaway now.

I leave my notebook on Coates' desk and enter Mac's office, pondering what excuse I'm going to give her as to why I'm here.

"Hey, you must be reading my mind," she says to me.

"What makes you think that?" I ask while I shut the door.

"Because I was going to call to check on you after my meeting."

"Check on me, why?" I ask curiously.

"Because neither one of us wanted to talk about it last night, and I know that saying goodbye to the girls was emotional for both of us. Sami's goodbye to you nearly made me cry, so I know that you must be having some regrets about telling Mrs. Morales that we don't want to proceed with the adoption. I wanted to check to see if you were getting through the day okay," she says as she comes out from behind her desk.

"I've got a case on my desk that's keeping my mind off that subject."

Mac slips her arms around my waist and looks into my eyes. "Is that why you came by…to discuss your case…or to be closer to the family that you have because you said goodbye to two little girls who you wanted to be part of your family?"

"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" I say as I wrap my arms around her.

She's smirking. "That's why you came here to discuss your case, isn't it?" Her smirk becomes a radiant smile. "My advice is going to cost you, though."

"Oh, what's your price?"

"Lunch, I'm starving."

I place my lips on hers and give her a brief kiss.

"That was worth lunch. Where is it that I'm taking you?" I ask, feeling better about coming here.

She pulls away. "How about Vinnie's? They have that roasted pepper and shrimp salad that you like..." She reaches for her purse and cover. "...and the lunch crowd mostly wants to sit outside. So, if we sit inside, it should be quiet enough for you to run over the facts of the case that's bothering you so you can see if I have any ideas."

"Remind me to get my notes off of Jennifer's desk on the way out."

**VINNIE'S BISTRO**

After we order, Mac begins the conversation. "So, start talking. What's the case?"

"You remember when I got that call in the middle of the night from Agent Walters a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah, when you got home, you said that it might be a case of arson, maybe more because there was a fatality."

"That's the one. The fire inspector's report makes it clear that the fire is suspicious, but it doesn't give us a solid case for arson. The fatality was a thirty-year-old female who lived in the home. The location of her wounds suggests that her death may not have been caused by the fire. However, the coroner can't say with certainty that her death was a homicide either. I take a drink of my water and put my glass back down on the table. "Maybe I'm doing the same thing that I accused Walters of doing."

"What's that?" Mac asks me.

"I told him that he was trying to make a crime fit his suspect. Maybe I'm trying to make a crime out of nothing."

My hand is around my water glass, and she places her hand on my wrist. "Harm, I've known you for a long time. You wouldn't do that. You've seen something in what you've read or heard, something in an interview that's leading you to the truth. That's the way you work. You just don't have the missing piece to put it all together yet, but you will. Was there anyone else in the home at the time of the fire?"

"Yes, her husband was home."

"That means that he had the opportunity. Would he have the knowledge to start the fire?"

"Yes, the fire was started by a spark from a frayed electrical cord. The husband is an electronics technician."

"Okay, two of the big three: means and opportunity. What about motive?"

"We haven't been able to come up with one. The crime scene boys are running scenarios through their computer that would show if the wounds that she suffered could have occurred from a couple of pieces of wood found near her body. We don't have that report or the report from the crime lab yet."

"See? There are pieces of the puzzle that you don't have access to yet. What is it about this case that has you banging your head against the wall so early in the investigation?"

She leans back in her chair and starts to give me the once over. "There's something that you aren't telling me…something that's making you obsess over this case."

I think that I'm safe from her scrutinizing when the waiter arrives with our lunch order.

We pick up our forks, each stabbing a bite of our entree. I'm lifting my fork to my mouth at a normal speed, but her hand is lifting her fork to her mouth in slow motion as her eyes continue to scan me for the answer.

"She was pregnant," she says with certainty.

I almost spit out the mouthful of salad that I was chewing. How does she do that? I didn't want to tell her that part, but I'm not going to lie. "Yes, she was," I answer after swallowing hard.

"If the husband didn't want the baby, that's going to be a tough motive to prove. I mean, from an outsider's point of view, Peggy's husband doesn't seem happy about their baby, but I don't think that it's the way he feels. He's just worried that something might happen, so he's keeping his guard up. Is there a money angle, or have you gotten that far yet?"

"Walters and I were looking at their financial situation before I came over to your office. They have a good credit score. They have a gas card that they use to purchase fuel, but they pay it off every month. There's a couple of credit cards, but neither one of them has more than a thousand-dollar balance and they haven't ever had more than two thousand dollars on them. They have a few thousand in savings. There is a pattern of the husband withdrawing $100 a week for at least the last year. Since they seem to pay cash for everything, I'm not sure that it means anything. As far as insurance goes, we've been able to find only one policy for ten thousand dollars that the husband assigned to the funeral home to pay for the funeral expenses. Walters attended the funeral on Saturday. He said that he checked with the funeral director about the final cost of the funeral and was told that the total was sixty-three hundred. So who kills for a few thousand dollars?"

"Walters see anything or anyone who drew attention at the funeral?"

"Nothing new, but he's still convinced that the husband killed her because he hasn't shown any emotion since her death."

"Lack of emotion could be a sign that he's in denial about her death. Until he accepts it, he won't mourn in any way. Have either you or Walters spoken to any of the victim's family about the state of their marriage yet?"

"We've spoken to one of her sisters. She said that her sister loved her husband and was happy with her life. She said that, over the course of their seven-year marriage, there had been a few times when she'd called and told her that they'd had a disagreement, but those times had been few and far between. Walters is going to speak with the neighbors this afternoon to see if there's any neighborhood gossip that might give us a clue."

"Did she have any information about how her brother-in-law felt about the baby?"

"She said that her sister had mentioned that he hadn't gone to any of her doctor's appointments with her, including the last one a few weeks back when they'd be able to hear the heartbeat for the first time."

The mention of that changes the direction of our conversation.

"You did mark your calendar for my next appointment, didn't you? I'll be at twelve weeks, and we should get to hear our baby's heartbeat." She speaks rapidly, but I'm not sure if it's from nerves or excitement.

"I have it marked and I'll be there. I want to be there."

"I want you there," she says in her normal tempo.

We each take a few bites of our lunch before she asks hesitantly, "How long are we going to put off talking about the girls?"

"You heard Mrs. Morales. She's got another couple interested in taking them. It isn't like it was before. We aren't leaving them to be in that home for who knows how long."

"What if they decide not to take both of them?"

"I choose not to believe that any couple who's met them would want to separate them."

"But what if -"

"Mac, I don't want to think about it, let alone talk about it right now."

"Later, then," she says firmly to let me know that she's willing to table it for now, but that we _are_ going to talk about it at some point. Then she switches back to talking about my case. "Tell me what your gut is telling you about this possible arson/homicide case."

At her request, I start at the beginning with my arrival at the scene of the fire and go forward from there, interjecting my take on things while telling her the facts as we know them as we finish our lunch.

**RABB SUV **

**IN ROUTE BACK TO JLS**

**AFTER LUNCH**

I've been driving us back to her office so that I can pick up my car and head back to my office. We've traveled in silence so far, each pondering the things that we need to do this afternoon, I assume.

I'm hoping to get back to the office and find that Walters will have discovered a million-dollar life insurance policy or something else that will give us a motive.

Apparently, Mac has been thinking about my case, too, because, when she speaks, she makes an observation.

"Harm, that meeting that I was in when you arrived was an update on a fraternization case. When the prosecuting attorney was reviewing his evidence with me, he said that he had hotel bills and an ID from a hotel clerk putting the two of them together, and cellphone records showing times and dates when they spoke to each other well after working hours or on holidays. What if your victim was happy in her marriage, but her husband wasn't? What if his hundred-dollar withdrawal each week was so that he could pay cash for a night out, be it dinner and a movie or a hotel room?"

"Checking cellphone records ... why didn't I think of that?" I say, disgusted with myself for overlooking that possibility.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You've had more than a few things on your mind in the last couple of weeks," Mac says, patting my thigh.

**HARM'S OFFICE **

**1420 **

As soon as I got back to my office, I found the name of their cellular phone service provider from their bank statements and made an immediate request for their phone logs.

It's amazing to me that we have such speedy technology as the internet, but the company couldn't promise to have the logs to me until Thursday.

The day hasn't been a total waste. Walters and I have just come from the crime scene unit where they ran their computer simulations for us.

I'm sitting in my office now, staring at a copy of the report that they gave us that outlines their findings.

The only way that the computer could reenact a scenario in which the shorter, slightly charred board found near her body could have hit her in the head in the location of the smaller second wound is if she were already prone on the floor when it struck her. However, the computer could come up with no scenario in which the large two by four section of wood, also found near her body, could have struck either blow, based on where the boards were found. This report lends credibility to our theory that the fatal blow was struck before the fire began.

Our working theory at this point is that Chief Hickle struck his wife with the larger board and tossed it down next to her body, thinking that, at most, someone would see the board and assume that it had delivered the blow when it fell during the fire. While she lay on the master bedroom floor at the foot of their bed, he started the fire and poured the flammable liquid to be sure that the house was a total loss, perhaps even hoping that her body would burn up with the house. However, the damage to the interior of the master bedroom had been minimal. Nevertheless, there had been damage to the roof caused by the fire and the firemen trying to bring the blaze under control that had sent parts of the roof down into master bedroom.

I have other things on my desk that need my attention, so, for now, all I can do is put our theory on hold and see if the crime lab's report provides me with the last piece of the puzzle.

I can also hope that the phone records for the chief and his wife lead me to something, because all we need right now to firm up this case is a motive.

**RABB HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

I start to watch Mac undress, but as she begins to pull at the sides of her unbuttoned blouse, I have to turn away. I can't watch her become any more uncovered than she is right now.

I pull off my shirt, reminding myself of why I had to turn away. The way that woman looks with clothes on is good, but the way that she looks without clothes - that's when I remember that we don't have a schedule anymore, and her doctor and the book both say that it's okay as long as it doesn't cause her any pain or discomfort.

I turn back around and move towards her. Her body is clad in only her bra and panties now. My arms encircle her from behind, and I place a kiss on her shoulder and another closer to her neck. The third kiss is on her neck and the fourth is in her hair over her ear.

She turns in my arms to face me. "See something you like, Sailor?"

"Everything I'm seeing, I like."

Our mouths come together, and the kiss is explosive. Never have I kissed a woman who invokes such conflicting emotions and urges within me. I want it hot, fast and wild, but, at the same time, I want it to be loving, slow and gentle.

As we make our way to the bed, my body reacts to her touch in ways over which I have no control.

Once in the comfort of our bed, the contradicting urges take over. I want to taste her. I want to be inside her. I want… I have to fight the urge to delve into her depths that bring me such ecstasy so that she can reach the plateau with me.

My head drops to her breasts to kiss them, to tease her nipples with my tongue, to suckle them, anything that I can do to bring her closer to the heights that my body has already reached.

Her low moans fuel my desire to satisfy her, making it easier for me to keep my own growing need at bay for a little while longer.

It seems like hours that I've been waiting to satisfy my need as I finally, slowly push myself into her, waiting for any sign of discomfort from her. Once I'm fully inside her, I can no longer fight my need for her and I lose the ability to think clearly.

Our lovemaking leaves us both sated and weary.

We may have things that we should talk about, but tonight we'll fall asleep in each other's arms, knowing that we have each other . . . and, at this moment, that's all we need to know.


	8. Chapter 8

**PART FIVE – A Decision Made **

**WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2350 **

**MAC'S POV**

Since I talked to Harm about retiring, a week ago, I've been having dreams similar to the one that just jolted me awake.

I don't want to disturb Harm, so I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I don't really need to use the facility, but the bathroom seems to be a safe haven in which to analyze my dreams.

In the bathroom, I take out a washcloth and turn on the water to let it warm slightly. While the water runs, I look into the mirror and start talking to my reflection.

"You know what these dreams are about. You know what you want to do, but you're worried that you'll retire and something will happen to the baby. You told yourself that you'd wait until after your next appointment, but you know that the longer you wait to turn in the paperwork the longer it will be before you can retire, and you have a schedule in mind. These dreams are about what you're going to miss if you keep putting it off out of fear that something will happen to the baby. You want to retire, so turn in the damned paperwork, MacKenzie."

I test the water and then moisten the washcloth that's clutched in my hand. I find myself staring into the mirror again as I start to wipe my face with the damp cloth.

"You need to tell Harm that you've made your decision."

After wiping my face, I head back to bed, wondering when I should tell Harm.

I slide into bed, and Harm stirs.

"You okay?" he asks in a husky voice laced with sleep.

"I had a dream that woke me up."

"You want to talk about it?" he asks.

I hesitate, but quickly decide that now is as good a time as any.

"I've been having similar dreams for a little over a week now."

He starts to move just before he speaks. "You said similar, so there are some common threads to the dreams?"

He's now positioning pillows behind him to lean back against to talk with me.

I wait for him to get comfortable before I speak.

"In all of the dreams, I'm in uniform and coming home from work. I get a report about the baby from a portly woman whose demeanor reminds me of your grandmother. She says things like, 'the baby definitely has daddy's smile' or 'the baby is fussy because... You get the idea." Talking about the dreams is upsetting me. I need a moment to collect myself.

Harm's arm comes around my shoulders. "How was tonight's dream different?"

I nod at first, allowing his comforting hold to supply me with strength before I reply.

"I was in uniform, but as a general and…" I can't stop the tears from falling this time and I finish speaking with them making a trail down my cheek. "… and this time the woman tells me that my baby has had dinner and is doing homework. I don't want to be a general at the cost of seeing our baby - our children - grow up."

I've gone from simple tears that I could blame on hormones to soft sobs. Harm pulls me to him, and his hand starts to move in soothing circles on my back.

"Harm ... "

"Mmm?"

"You told me last week that you'd support my decision to retire as long as I was sure that it was what I wanted. Well, I've never been in doubt that I wanted to retire to be home with our children, but I've been afraid that something will happen to the baby, and without a baby or work, I'd be lost. So, I've been waiting to hear the baby's heartbeat before putting in my request for retirement, not because I doubt my choice, but because I need to know that the baby is okay."

"Mac, everything's going to be okay," he says, using the same positive expression that he used when assuring me that Bud wasn't going to die after the land mine explosion.

"I hope so." I sigh. "If this baby isn't meant to be, then I want to adopt the girls. Then as soon as we can, I want to try to get pregnant again. If I'm retired, it might be easier because I won't have the added stress of work. I want to put in my papers. I want to be home with my children - however I get them."

"I just wanted you to be sure, and it sounds like you are, so I have no objections to you retiring." After a few moments of silence, he adds with that fighter jock grin of his, "I'm all for having a stay at home wife."

My tears have subsided, and the cockiness in the tone of his remark cannot go without some form of retaliation.

"I'm going to be a stay at home mom. I'm not doing it for your convenience, mister."

"You mean there are no perks in it for me? Then I take it back. I don't want you to retire," he says with a chuckle so I know that he's teasing me.

I'm still in his embrace, so I place a kiss on his chest and then, breaking free, I dip my head and place a kiss on his abdomen before I respond to his comment. "If I'm home all day, I can take a nap when I'm tired so I'll be well rested and, after we've tucked the children into bed…" I place a kiss just above the waistband of his boxers. As I put the tips of my fingers beneath the waistband, I purr, "…I'll be wide awake and ready to pounce." As I move his boxers down slowly, I place a kiss on the exposed skin.

"I can definitely see the possibilities in that arrangement," he says in a way that I know that he's enjoying what I'm doing.

I stop my kisses and suddenly release his boxers. As I start to move my body back up his to assume the position next to him that I had moments ago, I look up, and our eyes meet. I see the question 'why did you stop?' in his eyes.

I'm all smiles when I answer. "I'm not retired yet. I haven't had a nap and I have to go to work in the morning."

"You shouldn't tease a guy who's as crazy about you as I am."

"I was just getting even. You deserved it for that chauvinistic comment you made."

He pulls me to him and plants a kiss on me that curls my toes and awakens other parts of me, making me ready to give up some sleep to make love, but when his lips part from mine, he rolls over and says, "Good night."

I snuggle up to his back. I want to be mad at him, but I just can't be, even though I know that he's wearing that smug 'I win' grin of his.

**FRIDAY, MARCH 30, 2007**

**JAG DEPARTMENT**

**NCIS **

**0935**

**HARM'S POV**

I walk through the door of my department from the morning meeting, and PO Burns hands me a manila envelope - the phone logs from the Hickle cellphones, a day late, but they're here. So, I ask PO Burns to call Agent Walters and ask him to come by at his earliest convenience before making my way into my office.

**AN HOUR LATER**

I still haven't seen or heard from Agent Walters, so I buzz PO Burns to see if she was able to reach him. Her response is that his department said that he was out in the field and that she'd had to leave a voice mail message for him.

I've finished most of my morning routine and I was looking forward to taking a break from the normal paperwork and doing a little investigating.

Deciding that there's no reason why I can't start without him, I pull the sheets of paper from the envelope.

I begin by finding the separation between the two phone numbers. The first noticeable distinction between the chief and Mrs. Hickle's phone logs is that hers is quite a bit shorter. Mrs. Hickle's phone log of the past three months takes up two pages. Chief Hickle's log is about a quarter of an inch thick.

I speculate that, since Mrs. Hickle was a homemaker, perhaps she made only one or two calls a week to a lover, and Mr. Hickle's log is so long because he called his wife to check on her a lot as I start with Mrs. Hickle's log because it's the shortest, though I don't think that's what I'm going to find, but I _am_ trying to remain objective.

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1645 **

I was finished with Mrs. Hickle's phone log before Agent Walters showed up as I was going out to grab some lunch.

I know that it sounds weird, but I feel that, if I skip a meal, then Mac will think that it's okay for her to do it.

Our offices are nowhere close to each other. How would she know if I skip lunch?

Anyway, I told Walters that I'd buy him lunch and fill him in on how I spent my morning and then, when we returned, we could begin the task of sorting through the chief's lengthy phone log.

My summation of Mrs. Hickle's phone calls didn't take long. She had a few miscellaneous calls that appeared once on the log, but not a second time - hardly the pattern of an affair, especially since there was no routine to the calls, like a call every Tuesday at noon. The numbers that were recorded with a pattern weren't incriminating either. One belonged to her sister who lived nearby with whom she spoke three or four times a week. Another number was her other sister with whom she spoke once a week. The other number that appeared three times, once each month, belonged to her parents.

We've been going through Chief Hickle's phone logs since we got in from lunch, and my eyes are burning from the strain of staring at the pages and pages of numbers for the last three hours and something minutes.

"Sir, I got a late start on this today. Why don't I take this back to my desk and work on it while you head home?"

"I think that we should both call it a day," I reply, stretching to get some of the kinks out of my back.

"Sir, I'm single and not even currently in a relationship. I don't have a better place to be, but…" He points to the set of three pictures that I have discreetly placed on a shelf on the bookcase to the right of my desk. "…you do." He starts to make several stacks out of the pages on my desk. "It is, after all, my job to work this case ... " He starts to backpeddle a little. " ... not that I don't appreciate your help." He takes the three stacks of papers and makes them into one, using a quarter rotation of the pages to keep the stacks separated. "Besides, I don't think that the case is going to be solved from these numbers, but, hopefully, I'll find a clue that we can follow up on Monday."

"Then we'll meet here on Monday after I get out of the morning meeting, say 0930, so you can let me know if you've found anything."

"Yes, sir, I'll be here at 0930 Monday," Walters replies.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**1745**

There was a message on the answering machine from Mattie when I got home. Today was the last day of school before the four week spring break in the year round schedule. I guess she felt the need to celebrate.

Mattie's message: "Harm or Mac, whichever one of you gets home first. I'm at the mall with Gina and Marsha. I'll grab dinner while I'm here or on the way home. I'll be home by eleven. If you need me for anything, I have my phone. Love you, bye."

The last few weeks at home have been exciting because of the idea of a baby coming, but along with the news of the baby came the reality of what could happen to Mac or the baby during her pregnancy.

In all of our discussions about having a baby, we never discussed the complications that Mac's endometriosis could cause on the pregnancy itself. Our talks have focused only on the obstacles and how to overcome them in becoming pregnant.

I know that part of my unsettled feelings of the past few days isn't about Mac or the baby. Telling Mrs. Morales that we don't think that it's in the girls' best interest for us to move forward with adopting them isn't sitting very well with me. Maybe it's because we haven't told Mattie, Ty or my parents about our decision yet. It just never seems like a good time to tell them. Is there ever a good time to tell people disappointing news? However, I don't think that my parents will necessarily see our not adopting the girls as bad news.

I'm so engrossed in my thoughts of how Mattie and Ty will take the news that I don't realize that Mac is home until I hear Ty.

"Dad, I'm here to help, but Momma says that she's tired and wants to lie down, but if we need her to do something, we can get her up." He sounds upset by the fact that Mac wants to lie down.

"We're having vegetable soup -"

Ty cuts in. "- and grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Yes. I've got it started, so we don't need Momma's help, and the soup isn't close enough to being ready to start the sandwiches, so let's talk for a couple of minutes."

"Talk about what?"

"Let's talk about Momma and the baby." I have his attention. "When we went to Pennsylvania for Christmas, there were all these things that we had to do before we left. I bought the plane tickets and made arrangements for a rental car. Momma made sure that everyone had a winter coat that fit. We each had to pack warm clothes to wear. Before we left the house, we had to make sure that the cars were in the garage and the house was all locked up. It was a lot of work to get ready, but we each had a part to do so that no one person had to do everything. We shared the work, right?"

"Right," Ty responds.

"Well, there are a lot of things to do to get ready for a baby, too, but because the baby is growing inside Momma, her body has to do all the work by itself. All that work without help is what makes Momma tired. So right now, to help get ready for the baby, all we can do is take care of Momma."

"Like letting her take a nap without disturbing her?" he asks.

"Yes, and before you know it, Momma will start to feel better, and then we…" I indicate him and me by moving my index finger between the two of us. "…get to do more things to get ready for the baby, like getting the baby's bedroom painted and the furniture put together."

"There sure are a lot of things to learn about babies," Ty says seriously.

"There sure are," I reply in the same tone.

"Is it time to start the sandwiches yet? I'm getting hungry," Ty says, changing the subject.

"I think that we could get started on them," I answer.

Well, I hope that he understands now why Mac may need to rest after work instead of spending time with him.

Maybe this will even help with the transition when he discovers that he'll have to share Mac's attention with the baby after it's born.


	9. Chapter 9

**PART SIX – Revisiting Past Decisions**

**SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 2007**

**THE COVE RESTAURANT**

**LA JOLLA, CA**

**1817 **

**HARM'S POV**

Mac and I are perusing the menu.

"Harm, this is a pretty expensive place to bring me on a date. What made you pick this place?"

"You don't know what today is?"

"If it were tomorrow, I'd say that you were going to pull an April Fools' Day prank and stiff me with the check, but I can't think of a reason for you to bring me here tonight." She chuckles at her own joke and then she changes topics. "So, have you decided what you're going to have?"

"The swordfish."

"I saw the swordfish, but we want beef. I hate to break it to you, but your child isn't a vegetarian," she says with a teasing grin.

The waiter appears with our drinks and takes our order.

Once we've ordered and the waiter has disappeared again, Mac takes a sip of her water with a twist of lemon.

When she starts to place down her glass, she speaks. "I meant to thank you for letting me sleep in this morning. I feel rested this evening for the first time in weeks. I do need to ask you something though. When you and Ty brought my breakfast to me in bed this morning, you left the room for a few minutes to retrieve a fork that you'd forgotten so I could eat. While you were gone, I wanted to talk to Ty about me taking a nap yesterday and sleeping in this morning, but he told me that you'd explained it. He said that you told him that me having a baby was like us going on vacation. Can you explain that to me? He seemed so pleased with your explanation that I was afraid to ask questions for fear that he'd think that I was disagreeing with your assessment when I simply didn't understand the analogy."

I tell her about the conversation that Ty and I had while I was making dinner last evening and, when I've finished, she declares, "You're getting very good at taking complicated things and making them simple enough for a child to understand."

I give her a 'pleased with myself grin' at her compliment, but my smile disappears as she continues.

"I hope that you're working on a way to explain why we aren't adopting the girls. Of course, I have a theory about that subject. I think that we haven't told our family that we aren't adopting them because we aren't comfortable with the decision."

My sudden discomfort must mean that she's hit a nerve.

"I don't want to talk about them right now." I change the subject. "Tonight is about us."

I see a loving understanding in her eyes at my discomfort, but, with the girls apparently on her mind, I don't think that she realizes the importance of today's date for us.

I find myself lost in her eyes and I catch myself staring at her moments before the waiter appears with our first course.

Our meal begins to be served with flawless precision. We have enough time to finish a dish, but have no time to start a conversation before the next course arrives.

Without time to start a discussion, we finish our meal without exchanging more than a few sentences in regard to our food, such as, 'Do you want to try a bite?" or 'That was good.'

After I've settled the check, we're waiting for the valet to bring around my car. Mac's been so tired that I didn't plan anything other than dinner, but it seems too early to go home.

I'm standing with my arm around her, wondering if she's too tired to do anything else when she speaks.

"Are we going home now?" she asks, looking up at me.

"I don't have anything else planned, so, if you're tired, we can go home."

"I'm not tired, and the evening is still young. You know what I'd like to do?"

"No, what?" I ask curiously.

"I'd like for you to drive us a little way up the coast with the top down. There's something freeing about the feel of the wind whipping through my hair when the top's down."

"Your wish is my command, Mrs. Rabb."

I place a kiss on her cheek just as the familiar red of my car catches my eye.

Now that my car has arrived, our trip will begin as soon as I lower the top.

**RABB HOME **

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**LATER THAT EVENING**

"Ty sounded like he enjoyed his evening with Mattie," I state as I start to undress for bed.

"He did sound like he had a good time, didn't he? It's great that she loves him so much, and he loves her."

"Who wouldn't love someone who takes you out to dinner and buys you ice cream?" I laugh. "That's where I blew it. I bought you dinner, but no ice cream."

"I was in love with you before tonight, so you didn't need to buy me ice cream," she says while batting her eyelashes at me.

"Have you ever figured out why tonight is significant?"

Her eyes dart from mine, and she smiles coyly. "I know what tonight meant to me, but I can't think of a reason why this date would be so memorable for you that you'd take me out to a fancy dinner and bow to my whims of taking a drive and stopping to walk on the beach."

I step forward and pull her into my arms. Her palms come to rest flat against my bare chest. "Two years ago tonight, you walked into my loft, and we finally became us. It's a night that we may not always have time to celebrate, but it was the beginning of all of this, and that makes it a night that I'll never forget."

"I agree with you about me coming to your loft that evening, but I remember things a bit differently after that." She sighs the way women do when the two characters finally get together in a sappy old movie. "As I recall ... " she continues as her hands move up my chest. " ... you kissed me. You proposed and then you said you loved me." Her arms are now around my neck. "You turned my world upside down that night, and my feet still haven't touched the ground."

"Now that you mention it, my feet weren't on the ground very long either after I proposed," I say with my famous fighter jock grin in place.

She pulls one of her arms back from around my neck to swat my chest. "I thought we were having a Hallmark moment," she says with a giggle as she returns her arm to its prior place around my neck.

God, I love this woman so much. Of all the choices that I've made in my life, marrying her was a decision that I certainly got right.

I must be forgiven for my comment because, when my lips touch hers, I'm met with no resistance and, a moment later, she's returning my kiss.

The lingering kiss that we begin is the first step to getting us both off our feet and in bed again - two years later.

**SUNDAY, APRIL 1, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**DINING ROOM**

**BREAKFAST**

Mac and I had a wonderful dinner, and the evening that followed was magical.

I fell asleep with her in my arms after lovemaking, and the only feeling that compares to that is the one that I had waking up with our naked bodies spooned together in the middle of our bed this morning.

I'm sitting at the dining table, and my mind wanders to my family seated around me, eating our traditional Sunday morning French toast breakfast.

Mattie's doctor says that she's recovered about ninety-eight percent of her neurological functioning, but they don't think that she'll ever regain that last two percent. I'm thrilled that she's done so well, given the seriousness of her injuries, but I'm sure that the missing two percent seems more like fifty percent to her when she wants to do something that requires some skill that she no longer has.

Mac says that Tyler and I are a lot alike. He likes all the usual boy stuff: cars, planes, trucks, trains and baseball. He has an inquisitive nature, one that Mac says would serve him well as a lawyer or a police detective. Ty has a gentle and sensitive side, too. Mac says that his softer side is what will make him a good big brother and a good catch for a woman someday.

My eyes make my way around the table to Mac. There are no words that can do justice to the way that I feel about her. She is an extraordinary woman. She's smart, beautiful, charming, sexy, loving, caring…and so much more. I love her more today than I did yesterday. I'm intrigued by her. She invokes the strangest combinations of emotions in me, and just when I'd thought that the ride was about to level out, she told me that she's carrying my child. Yes, there are no words to describe just how I feel about my wife.

'What a difference two years can make in one's life,' is my thought as I complete the inventory of the joys in my life today.

I'm filled with a sense of fulfillment and peace as I take a bite of my French toast, trying to catch up with the rest of the family who are almost finished with their breakfast.

I have a big smile on my face, unaware that one of the joys of my life, through his simple, inquisitive nature, is about to turn my mood from one of happiness to regret, not for adopting him, but for a decision made with which I don't feel as comfortable as I've tried to convince myself that I am.

Ty has finished his breakfast. I'm still a few bites behind and figure that he's waiting for me to finish so that we can leave the table together, but that isn't the case. He has a question for us.

"Do you think that Miss Rosa will let Abigail and Sami come to hunt Easter eggs with me at Grandma and Grandpa's house?"

"Yeah, it seems to me that we aren't seeing them often enough if you're adopting them. I'd like to help settle them in before I start college. I want them to know that they have a big sister," Mattie adds.

I put a forkful of French toast in my mouth and look at Mac, but I find that she's looking at me.

I chew slowly because I have no idea how to say what needs to be said, but we can't put off telling them any longer.

I see panic in Mac's eyes, so I swallow the food in my mouth and take a sip of my coffee before I begin.

"I don't know if we'll be seeing them again." I feel beads of sweat pop out on my forehead as the three faces sitting around the table pin their eyes on me. "Miss Rosa told us at Ty's birthday party last week that another couple has met Abigail and Sami and are interested in adopting them, too."

"Why can't we have them? We met them first." Ty is upset by the news, and his voice cracks as he speaks.

Mac follows my lead and takes over. "Well, it's more complicated than that. Miss Rosa said that the other couple is very nice. They've been married longer than Dad and I have. They don't have any children, so the girls would get extra attention at their house. We have to consider what's best for them and not just what we want."

"And the other place is better for them?" Ty questions, trying to understand.

"Yes, we think that it may be better for them," I answer.

"May I be excused?" Ty asks.

"Yes, you may," I reply.

We all watch the usually happy boy take his plate to the kitchen with his head down. He's taking the news pretty hard.

Once Ty has left the room, it's Mattie who has a reaction that we didn't expect.

"Is there really another couple?" Mattie asks in a tone that makes it apparent that she thinks that we lied to Ty.

"Yes!" Mac replies emphatically.

"You've got to admit that this couple is convenient for you. I mean, you're talking about adopting them and then you find out that you're having a baby, and the girls are out the door – just tossed aside because of the baby." Her tone indicates her disdain.

Mac is visibly upset, but no tears are present, at least not yet.

I stand. My voice is louder than normal, but controlled and firm. "Mattie, I know that what you've been through makes you feel grown up, but let me tell you that you've still got a few things to learn. It isn't easy to let them go, and I have doubts every day about whether or not we're making the right decision. It's true that Mac's and the baby's health during her pregnancy are factors, but what's best for the girls is of great concern to us as well. Now, before you question it again, yes, there really is another couple, and from what Mrs. Morales told us about them, they can offer the girls a good home where they can get the attention that they need and deserve."

I don't wait for a response of any kind from Mattie. Having said what I felt needed to be said, I pick up my plate and head for the kitchen.

**MAC'S POV**

I've been watching Mattie's face as Harm spoke. Her smug 'know it all' look faded quickly, and Harm leaving the dining room has left her looking deflated.

"Mattie ... " I venture. " ... are you okay?"

"I don't know. He's never been angry with me before."

"I don't think that he's angry with you. I think that he's upset that you thought that we'd lie to you, and I think that he lost his temper because he's frustrated. What we want to do about the girls and what we think is best for them and our family is in direct conflict. I didn't realize myself how much it was bothering him until just now...and yes, the baby is very important to us, but we would never toss aside any of our children to make room for another. We have room for all of you in our hearts, but sometimes loving your children means letting them go, whether it's to a home that's better for them or letting them go off to college."

She offers me a half smile. "Thanks, Mac."

"You're welcome. Ty should be in his room getting ready to go to Grandpa's house and Harm is probably in the den. Why don't you go talk to him?"

She stands and makes her way over to me. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and gives me a hug.

"I love you, Mac."

I pat one of her arms that she has draped around me. "I love you, too."

**HOME OFFICE/DEN**

**A FEW MOMENTS LATER**

**HARM'S POV**

I've been pacing in front of my desk for only a couple of minutes when Mattie enters.

I'm not sorry for what I said, but I am sorry that I lost my temper. I'm about to apologize for the latter when Mattie speaks.

"Harm…I didn't think before I spoke. When you think about it, I should know better than anyone else that you wouldn't just let Abigail and Sami go without a good reason. I mean, you fought to get me. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"And I'm sorry that I lost my temper. It's just a very difficult situation." She steps closer to me and wraps her arms around my midsection.

"I thought that you might be getting too old for this," I say as we hug each other.

She's smiling as our embrace ends and we pull apart.

"Too old for you to do it in public or in front of my friends, but at home when no one is looking, it's okay," she counters.

"I'll keep that in mind," I say as she reaches the door.

"Harm, if it helps. I don't think that the girls will be better off with the other couple. I think that you and Mac are the best parents that any child could ever have. I love you."

"Thanks, and I love you, too."

In our brief exchange, we've each made apologies and forgiven the other.

I just wish that I felt better about the whole situation.

The words that she said in anger at the breakfast table echo inside my head, leaving me wondering if that's what we're doing. Are we letting the girls go for our convenience or because we truly believe that it's what's best for them? Is not adopting the girls a decision that we're going to regret? Our decision was made not that long ago. Could we change our minds? _Should_ we change our minds?

It's going to be a long day as I sift through these questions in search of the answers.


	10. Chapter 10

**PART SEVEN – Number Five **

**MONDAY, APRIL 2, 2007**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**0915 **

**HARM'S POV**

I managed to sleep, but not well, so I have no appreciation for Agent Walters' punctuality or for the broad smile on his face when he shows up fifteen minutes before our appointment time.

I reach for my mug of coffee as he makes his way to one of the chairs in front of my desk.

"I was by earlier and asked your yeoman to give me a call when you got in from your meeting. I've got a lot of things to fill you in on."

I motion for him to have a seat.

"I found a few things in the chief's phone logs over the weekend and I got the crime lab report this morning. It's very interesting." He takes a breath. "I'll start where we left off on Friday…with the phone logs, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine. Tell me what you found," I reply, hoping that his enthusiasm is contagious and that I'll be able to get wrapped up in this case and get my mind on something other than two little brown-haired girls.

"I didn't see much at first, but I took the logs home and got an early start on them on Saturday morning. I don't know whether it was the fact I'd had a good night's sleep or, instead of looking from the present back, I went back and moved forward to the present, but whichever it was, it worked. At the start of the logs three months ago, Chief Hickle made a call once a week to the same number. Each time, it was the day after he'd made his bank withdrawal. The call was to a Miss Wanda's massage parlor in National City near the Thirty-Second Street Naval Base where Chief Hickle is stationed. You know the type of establishment I mean, sir. They say massage, but, for the right customer, they offer other services."

He seems embarrassed, so I help him out. "I've been a sailor for a long time. I know the type of place you mean, but the fact that he was getting something other than his back massaged doesn't help our case."

"No, sir, but the calls to that number stop six weeks into the logs and another number starts to appear in the same place - the day after he makes his bank withdrawal."

"So he switched his establishment of choice. No crime there," I caution him.

"He didn't change establishments. He started calling an individual, and the calls to her number stay at once a week for three weeks, but after that, the calls become three or four times a week. In the three days prior to the fire, the chief called the number twice a day and then nothing until he made his withdrawal for the week. Then, he placed one call to her."

"Have you been able to find out to whom the number belongs?"

"It belongs to a Tawny Benning. It seems that Miss Benning quit Miss Wanda's without notice, just walked out during her shift on the evening of March 15th – less than forty-eight hours after the fire at the Hickle home and the day after Hickle had made his withdrawal at the bank. Since she didn't leave on good terms, the management was more than happy to supply me with the home address that she'd given them. I haven't been able to find her at home to speak with her yet. I've been watching her place, but I got someone else to take over while I came to meet with you this morning. However, I'm not sure that she's going to show up there. I checked the Navy Lodge. Chief Hickle checked out two days after his wife's funeral."

"Well, it seems that we certainly have enough to bring in the chief for a few questions."

"Oh, I've got more, sir. Remember, I told you that I got the crime lab's report."

"And you said that it was interesting. So tell me what it has to offer."

"The large board found near her body is the murder weapon. The size of the wound in her head matches the board, and the blood and hair found embedded in it match hers."

"That proves that the board hit her, but it doesn't make it a _murder_ weapon."

"The next part does. The large board wasn't charred, and that's why no ash was found in that wound. It also couldn't have been part of the house framing. The house was built decades ago, so the wood in the frame would be dried out. The board that struck the fatal blow contained a high level of moisture, making it a recently cut piece of lumber."

He's smiling.

"Is there anything else?" I ask.

"Yes, sir…the crime lab had taken carpet samples. The carpet around her body had gasoline in it, but carpet samples taken from a couple of different locations in the bedroom didn't. No carpet remained in the room where the fire started, but it's safe to say that there was gasoline there because of the severe damage to the room, and the burn pattern suggests that gasoline was used in the hall to move the fire through the house faster."

"But he needed to give himself time to smell smoke and "wake" his wife to make his story fit, so he didn't pour gasoline anywhere in their bedroom except for around his wife's body, hoping that it would burn when the fire did reach the room." I'm tracking with his theory now.

"That's the way I see it, too. He whacked his wife on the head and then went about setting the fire while she was dying. Once the fire had started and began to produce smoke, he put his alibi plan into action by calling 911. I listened to the 911 tape, and he calls out to his wife…'Hurry up, honey. You don't need to worry about getting dressed. The fire department is on the way.' There was no response from her. I think that he was pretending to speak to her as a ploy to cover up his crime."

"But his timing was a little off, either because he didn't expect the fire department to arrive so soon or because he got worried that he was going to die in his own trap and made the call too soon."

"Yes, sir," Walters says before his cellphone interrupts our session.

"This is Walters. … Just keep tabs on her. I want to talk to her. I'll be there in twenty." He ends his call and addresses me, "Sir, Miss Benning is at home. Care to go along?"

"I'd be glad to. If she says what I suspect she will, you may very well have made an arrest in your first murder case by the end of the day."

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1320 **

**MAC'S POV**

I'm staring at a file on my desk and realize that it's just the folder that I'm looking at. 'Way to go, MacKenzie. You can't even fake the fact that you're distracted and not getting any work done.'

I know that Harm didn't sleep well last night because his tossing and turning kept waking me.

He also got up earlier than usual and left for his run.

I tried to call Mrs. Morales this morning, but my call went to her voice mail. That was four hours and twenty-seven minutes ago.

I thought if I called her and found out that the girls were all right, I could tell Harm that tonight, and he'd be able to sleep better.

I flip open the folder on my desk and read the first line, but I have no idea what it said because my mind has begun to debate whether I should call her again.

The ringing of my cellphone brings the debate to an end without a decision.

I pull my cellphone out and flip open the cover without bothering to look at the tiny window to see whose calling.

"Hello."

"Mrs. Rabb, I'm sorry for the delay in getting back to you. I've had quite a busy day, and your message didn't make it clear as to what you wanted to speak with me about ... though I don't think that I'd be going out on a limb if I assume that it has something to do with Abigail and Sami."

"I'm glad that you were able to get back to me today. Thank you for that, and yes, it does have to do with the girls. I called to check on them, you know, to see how they're doing ... and if it isn't against some kind of policy for you to tell me, I'd like to know if you've heard from the couple who you told us about. Have they decided to adopt them?"

I hang up the phone seven minutes and twelve seconds later. The call hasn't given me the peace of mind that I'd hoped to be able to share with my family. In fact, I'm more distressed than I was before I spoke to Mrs. Morales.

**1655**

I'm putting away some of the things on my desk and preparing to leave for the day when my cellphone rings.

"Hello," I answer on the third ring.

"Hey, Mac." Harm sounds tired. "I'm calling to tell you that I'm going to be home late…maybe very late."

"A break in that case that you've been working on with Walters or something new?" I ask, hoping that it's the former, because he'd have one less thing on his mind if it is.

"Yeah, a big break – we found the suspect's girlfriend. We've questioned her, and I'm waiting for Walters to arrive with the suspect for questioning. We have enough for an arrest either way, but if the suspect wants to confess, I want to be here to make sure that there are no mistakes that would render it inadmissible."

"Then I'll see you at home when you get there."

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"You sound a little distracted … and a little upset. Are you feeling okay?"

I can't believe that, with as tired and as preoccupied as he is with his case, he'd notice anything about my mood.

"Don't worry. The baby and I are okay. I do have something on my mind, but I haven't worked through how I feel about it yet, so I'm not ready to talk about it."

"Maybe you'll be ready to talk about it when I get home, but don't wait up. You need your rest."

"Do you think that you might be that late?"

"Depends on how things go. I love you. Bye."

"I love you, too. Bye."

**RABB HOME**

**2045**

**HARM'S POV**

I got home in time to participate in the last hand of Go Fish and be there while Ty read to us before I told him good night.

Mac still performs the final tucking in routine - that's what she's doing now while I'm sitting at the patio table in our backyard, looking out over the pool and wondering why, if the case is over, I still feel so unsettled.

Chief Hickle admitted to his affair with Miss Benning early in the questioning. He never actually confessed to murdering his wife, but he certainly alluded to it at one point. We were asking him why, if he was in love with Miss Benning, he hadn't just divorced his wife. His response was that it was, 'Because of the baby. A wife can be divorced and tossed aside, forgotten, but not if you have a child with her. The child is a bond that ties the two of you together for the life of that child.' Between his admitted affair, the physical evidence and the testimony of his girlfriend, who says that she didn't know that he was married, we have a solid case, and Chief Hickle was taken into custody.

I don't care how many times the interrogation replays in my head. I can't understand why he did it. He claimed that the affair had come about because Miss Benning was half his age. She made him feel young, and the sex had been so great with her that he couldn't get his mind off of being with her.

I don't care how good the sex was. How could he kill his baby and the mother of that child? It just doesn't make sense to me. I could use a drink tonight to relax.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening causes me to turn to look back towards the house. As I suspected, it's Mac. She has a glass in her hand.

She extends her hand, offering me the glass. "You didn't sleep much last night."

I take the glass, and the aroma coming from it is unmistakable - bourbon.

"I thought, between your investigation being concluded and a night cap, you might be able to get a good night's sleep tonight."

"I didn't know that you knew where I kept the bottle."

"You should know by now that you can't keep secrets from me. You keep the bottle behind the law books on the top shelf of the bookcase in the den."

I take a small drink, more than a sip and less than a gulp before speaking, "If this won't bother you ... " I lift my glass, indicating that I'm referring to the drink in my hand.." ... I'd like for you to sit with me."

"It didn't bother me when I was pouring it," she says as she starts to take a seat next to me.

Once she's seated, she continues in a tone that's one of reflection. "I drank because I was trying to drown out the pain of the little girl that was locked inside. I don't have that kind of hurt inside me any more ... and though I appreciate your sensitivity about my addiction, you don't have to become a teetotaler. You can have a drink to be social or to relax at the end of a long day without worrying about me."

This time, I take down a gulp of the brown liquid before speaking. "Usually, a kiss from you at the end of the day is more than enough. I don't need a drink ... but before you came out here, I was thinking that a drink might help me to relax."

"What's different about tonight?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's the case that I've been working on."

"Because the victim was pregnant?" she asks in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yes. I've… We've investigated a lot of cases over the years, and there have been a number of murders among them, but the motives were money or to keep their criminal activity from being exposed. I can't condone murder for any reason, but when the motive is greed or self preservation, I can at least understand the act. Not being in love with the woman in your life anymore, I can understand that, too ... but for a man to kill his wife _because _she's carrying his child ... I just can't grasp that concept at all. He killed them and just tossed them aside as if they were garbage."

I feel her hand touch my arm and I look up, making eye contact with her. I hadn't realized that I'd let my gaze fall to my glass while I was talking.

"You don't understand because you aren't that kind of man. I wish that I could say that I've never known a man like your suspect, but I have – my father. For my own sanity, I have to think that my father wouldn't have killed my mother intentionally, but I can't deny the fact that, when he beat her, he could have killed her."

Her childhood is something that she rarely mentions. Her hand is still on my arm, and I place my free hand over hers. I don't know what to say, so I say nothing, just maintain the contact with her as a means of comfort.

I'm concerned that my touch isn't having the desired effect when her eyes begin to gloss over with tears and she pulls her hand away from mine.

I hear a little hitch in her voice when she starts to speak again.

"You know, that's what it is about Abigail that makes her so important to me."

This is a turn in the conversation that I wasn't expecting.

"You feel connected to her because a prospective father abused her? But I thought you said that your father never hit you."

"He didn't hit me, but the fear that he would or kill my mother is probably much like how Abigail felt about her sister. I'm sure that she felt that it was better that he take his anger out on her than Sami. At some point, my mother couldn't take it any more and she left, but when she was there, I think that the reason why she didn't fight back was because she didn't want him to hit me instead. What she didn't understand is that the names that he called me hurt as much as the punches would have, and it left scars on the inside instead of the outside. The look in Abigail's eyes reminds me of the pain that I felt. I want to take care of her. I want her to feel safe and protected so that she can enjoy her childhood."

"Something that you wish that someone had been able to do for you," I say, letting her know that I understand.

"Yes," she says breathily, grateful that I accept her reason.

I put down my glass on the patio table and reach for her hand. She doesn't pull away, but she has more to say.

She looks into my eyes. "Harm, I know that you're trying to relax and put this case behind you, so this is terrible timing, but I want to talk to you about why I was upset on the phone earlier."

"Then why don't you come a little closer?" I tug gently on her hand.

She gives me an odd look, but stands and moves closer to my chair. My arm snakes around her, and she gets the idea.

"My skirt was a little snug this morning, so, before I sit in your lap, I must warn you that I may be heavier than I appear."

"I think that I can handle the load," I reply with a grin as she takes a seat.

It takes a couple of moments for us to get comfortable, but once she's settled on my lap with my arms wrapped around her, it's time for me to hear what's bothering her.

"So tell me, what upset you today?" I ask.

"I got the notion that you'd sleep better and the rest of us would feel better if I found out that the girls were doing all right and that they were being adopted by that couple, so I called Mrs. Morales to check on them."

"They are okay, aren't they?" I ask with an uneasy feeling.

"For now," she says with a sniffle.

"What does that mean, for now?" I ask anxiously.

She takes a deep breath, trying to keep her tears at bay.

"Mrs. Morales says that the couple who she told us about have decided to adopt only one of the girls."

"Sami," I state.

"Yes, Abigail will be tossed aside or, more accurately, left behind."

"You said on the phone that you had to work through how you felt about it before you talked about what was bothering you, so tell me. How do you feel about this new development?"

"I feel that we can't let it happen. It isn't who we are."

"You want to adopt Abigail?" I ask.

"I think that finding out that the girls are going to be separated when we know that staying together is better for them is a sign that they belong with us. I want us to adopt both of them."

She lets things fall silent for a few moments, giving me time to absorb this new twist before speaking again.

"I know that you're worried about me and the baby, but next week I'll have made it to my twelfth week, and the risk of miscarriage decreases after that." She pauses for only a heartbeat before continuing. "I can also tell you that trying to settle those two little girls into our family will be a lot less stressful on me than worrying about whether or not they're safe and happy." She puts her forehead against mine and speaks softly. "They need a man like you to be their dad. They need to know that strong, loving men exist."

She starts to twist out of my embrace and stands. "I've had hours to think about it. I'm going to go to bed and let you finish your drink and think it over. If you don't feel the same way that I do about this, I'll understand, but based on what you said to Mattie yesterday about wondering every day if we were making the right decision about not adopting them, I think that you want them, too."

She kisses the top of my head before she turns and leaves me alone on the patio to contemplate her desire to add the girls to our family.

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

I walk into a dark room and I figure that she's fallen asleep, so I quietly make my way to our bathroom to strip down for bed.

A few minutes later, I'm slipping into bed.

I try to make as few movements as possible as I try to find a comfortable position in which to fall asleep.

I settle on my right side so that I don't disturb Mac on my left.

I've just closed my eyes when her arm slips around my waist and I feel a moist kiss being placed on my shoulder. "I'm glad that you came to bed. I was worried that I'd upset you," she whispers.

"I thought that you were asleep or I would've gotten ready for bed in here while we talked."

"What did you want to talk about?" she asks like it could be about anything, when she knows what's been on my mind.

"About which one of us is going to call Mrs. Morales tomorrow to find out what the chances are of us adopting both girls since the other couple is interested in Sami."

"Does that mean…?" Her voice trails off.

"It means that, if everything works out, the baby will be child number five in the Rabb family."

She pulls on my shoulder until I give in and roll over on my back. Then she practically pounces on me, and I get the most amazing kiss from her.

Once she's pulled her lips away from mine, she says, "I love you" as she snuggles close to my side after our kiss has ended.

"And I love you," I respond, giving her a little squeeze.

In a comfortable position for sleeping and feeling less conflicted, having reversed course and changed direction to pursue adopting Abigail and Sami, I already feel better.

A good night's sleep is on the horizon as my eyelids close and sleep claims my weary body.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - IN FOR A FIGHT **

**PART ONE**

**TUESDAY, APRIL 3, 2007**

**MRS. MORALES OFFICE**

**0845**

Rosa Morales was fifteen minutes late arriving for work this morning. Some days it just didn't seem to matter what she did, the day just didn't go right from the start.

This morning, her sons had science projects to turn in, so she'd driven them to school in the hopes that their models and the tri-fold presentation boards on which their project results were displayed would arrive unscathed.

Their high school was ten minutes from the house, and it was another ten minutes from the school to the freeway for her to get to work, so leaving thirty minutes before they had to be at school should've given her plenty of time, she'd thought. However, as the traffic had begun to jam up near the school, she'd realized that she probably wasn't the only one who'd had the same idea of driving their young science geniuses to school today.

The extra ten minutes that she'd allotted in her schedule to make the trip hadn't been enough when, at eighteen minutes after they'd left the house and still two blocks from the school, the day had gone from bad to worse when her car had been hit, rear-ended by the car behind her.

Her older son had taken the accident in stride as he did with most everything, but the younger one had a different nature.

It had been a minor collision, but the jolt had caused a piece of her younger son's model of the solar system to dislodge and roll onto the floor of the car. He hadn't been upset by the accident but to the 'wreck' that it had made of his project.

It had taken only a few minutes to exchange insurance information, but twice as long to calm her younger son, who was sure that he'd never be able to repair the planet that had fallen out of orbit and had been sure that he was going to get a poor grade on the project that he'd worked on so hard.

Once she'd dropped her boys off at school, with the planet back in its proper orbit, she'd thought that the worst of her day was behind her when she'd had smooth sailing on the freeway to her usual morning stop for a cup of flavored coffee.

However, after getting a cup of her usual brew, a pothole that she'd never seen before, but must have been avoiding daily because she'd never hit it and it couldn't have just appeared overnight, caused the car to bounce in a way that sent coffee out of the little sip hole, and the hot liquid rained down on her blouse and skirt in hot droplets.

She was thankful that the lid hadn't come off the cup, which would've been far more disastrous, but that hadn't made the drops of coffee on her favorite pink blouse and her kaki-colored skirt any less noticeable, and it certainly hadn't made the day seem like it had taken a turn for the better as she'd thought moments before the coffee shower.

**0900**

After arriving at work, Rosa Morales placed her briefcase with her current caseload notes next to her desk and went to the ladies room to try to prevent her coffee splatters from becoming a permanent part of her clothing by rubbing a little cold water on the spots.

It took her a few minutes, but she was very pleased with her efforts. She could detect no more coffee-colored polka dots on her blouse or skirt when she left the ladies room after ten minutes of dabbing at the spots and giving the cloth a few minutes to dry.

With a renewed sense of love for coffee after the clean up was complete, she stopped by the coffee machine to pour herself a cup before proceeding to her desk to really begin her day.

Once seated comfortably, she pulled her case notes from her briefcase and began to look over the list.

The notes at the bottom of the first page soured her upbeat mood once more - the notes pertaining to Abigail and Samantha Walker.

There were parts of Rosa Morales' job that she didn't like, but she knew that she had to accept them in order to have the good parts.

When she found a child a loving home, the sense of satisfaction that she received was why she still loved her job after all these years ... but then there were cases like Abigail and Samantha.

The Tates were nice people, but placing only Sami with them broke her heart. Abigail and Samantha weren't children damaged by parents who didn't love them or who loved drugs more. These two little girls were the victims of tragic circumstances that had robbed them of their happy home and loving parents.

Rosa Morales wanted them to have that kind of home again, and to her that meant keeping them together.

She tapped her pen mindlessly against her notepad at the thought of the call that she'd received yesterday from Mrs. Rabb. Should she dare to hope that they'd want to adopt Abigail? Was it too much to hope that they'd want to adopt both girls after all?

Rosa Morales sighed. The Rabbs were the best candidates, but she couldn't blame them for not wanting to take on two little girls when they had a baby on the way.

She clicked the top of the pen and put the point to the paper under the last entry currently recorded about Abigail and Sami. Perhaps it was a lot to hope for, but sometimes her job required a little faith, and she'd make a note of the call that Mrs. Rabb had made yesterday inquiring about the girls, just in case she needed it for a report if the Rabb's changed their minds.

**0935**

"This is Rosa Morales. How may I help you?" Her voice was professional sounding, but it also had a pleasant and somehow reassuring tone to it.

"Hello, Mrs. Morales. This is Harmon Rabb."

"Well, hello, Mr. Rabb. After speaking to your wife yesterday, I was hoping that I was going to hear from one of you very soon."

'Yes,' she thought. 'Sometimes this job requires that you have a little faith.

"I just hope that it isn't too late."

"Too late for what, Mr. Rabb?"

"Since we know that you have someone who wants to adopt Sami, we're hoping that it isn't too late to tell you that we'd like to adopt the girls."

Rosa Morales' mind was racing, 'Girls...did he say girls?' she thought.

"Nothing has been finalized." Her voice faltered as she began to speak, but by about the third word, she'd regained some composure.

She took a deep breath to even out her tone before continuing.

"The other couple has stated that they'd like to adopt Sami, but they've had only the initial meeting with both girls and a visit with Sami at the home this past weekend, so you're one visit ahead of them ... and if I understood you correctly, you said that you want to adopt both girls, and keeping the girls together would definitely be preferred by our department."

She was glad that she'd regained her professionalism, but she was jumping for joy – even doing cartwheels – on the inside.

"You understood correctly. We'd like to adopt both Abigail and Sami." Harm stopped speaking, afraid to ask his question for fear of the answer.

Rosa sensed that there was something else on the man's mind, so she let the silence hang there, waiting for him to move the conversation forward. It took a few moments, but Harm finally did ask his question.

"I know that you can't make any promises…or give us any guarantees, but I was hoping that you could…would venture a guess as to what the odds are of us getting both girls." This time, his pause was only long enough for him to draw in a breath. "I'm just trying to get an objective opinion. I know that we're now trying to convince everyone who has a say in the adoption process that we want to adopt them when, just a week ago, I was telling you that we didn't think that it was a good idea for us to proceed at this time."

"I need for you to answer a question for me before I can answer. What made you call me today and request that we proceed with the adoption?"

"We've always wanted the girls, but trying to decide what was best for everyone hasn't been an easy decision. The news that not only was Mac pregnant, but that she could be facing a difficult pregnancy had to be considered. However, Mac will be entering the twelfth week in a few days, a milestone in a potentially problematic pregnancy. She's feeling less fatigued and she feels as if she'll be able to give the girls more attention than she felt that she could prior to now. We also hadn't considered that Mattie and Ty could form an attachment to the girls from just a few hours at art camp and Ty's birthday party. However, when we told them yesterday morning that the girls probably wouldn't be becoming part of our family, they were very disappointed and unhappy at that prospect. With this new information, we don't think that it will be easy, but we also don't think that settling the girls into the family will be as hard as we'd once thought that it would be, either...and, frankly, the final straw was finding out that the other couple wants only Sami. We believe that, because those girls are sisters, they need to stay together."

"I see." Rosa Morales had a huge grin on her face that Harm couldn't see. She'd just known that the Rabbs were the right parents for those two little girls. "You certainly have my full support in adopting them, though I don't have the final say, you understand. However, I think that your chances are pretty good."

"I just wondered how much damage you think that my telling you last week that we didn't want to proceed at that time would weigh against us."

"Maybe your memory is faulty, Mr. Rabb. I'm looking at my notes right now. I didn't write down that you didn't want to adopt the girls. My notes about last week's visit list my observations about the interaction between your extended family and the girls, and I see a sentence that says that you and your wife voiced concerns to me about wanting to make the right decision for the girls when it came to adopting them. I didn't take what you said as meaning that you didn't want the girls or that I should pull your application."

"Well, notes made the day of the event would certainly be more accurate than my memory a week later, now wouldn't it?"

"I'd think so, Mr. Rabb. Now, let's talk about the next step. When would you like to see the girls again?"

"Mac and I discussed that. We think that you had an excellent point when you suggested that bringing the girls into the family while Mac is still early in her pregnancy would be a good idea and, with that idea in mind, we'd like to see the girls this weekend. In fact, we'd like to take the girls shopping on Saturday to buy them a new outfit for Easter and, if we aren't pressing our luck, we'd like to have them visit at my parents' home on Sunday. It's Easter, and there will be an egg hunt around ten that morning."

"The Ta -" She'd almost slipped the other couple's name, but she caught herself. "- other couple hasn't requested a visit this weekend, so there's no conflict there, but I'll have to make a few calls. I'll call you back this afternoon, say around two, and let you know what I've been able to arrange for you."

"That would be fine. I'll look forward to your call."

"Very well then, I'll talk to you later today, Mr. Rabb."

Rosa Morales smiled at the phone sitting on her desk as she put the receiver back on its base - one phone call had shifted the day a hundred and eighty degrees.

A moment later, she was making notes and starting to make the calls that she needed to make in order for the girls to visit with the Rabbs over the weekend.

**THURSDAY, APRIL 5, 2007**

**MRS. MORALES' OFFICE**

**1430**

Rosa Morales had been out all morning doing case work and then stopped for a much needed late lunch.

Now she was sitting at her desk, having just finished listening to her voice mail messages.

Four people had called, though she had ten messages – there were seven messages from one person, Mr. Alan Tate.

Rosa dialed her colleague's number, who'd left a message for her early this morning.

Her second call was to one of her foster mothers, who'd left a message about a problem in school with one of her charges.

The third call she made was to her husband who'd left a message. She now had one last person to call.

"Law offices of McNeil and Tate. How may I help you?" asked a perky female voice on the other end of the line.

"I'd like to speak to Mr. Tate, please."

"May I please have either your name or the reason for your call?"

"This is Rosa Morales. I'm returning Mr. Tate's calls."

"One moment, please, Ms. Morales."

It was only a matter of seconds before Mr. Tate picked up.

"Mrs. Morales, I've been trying to reach you for the better part of the day. My wife and I had plans that were cancelled at the last minute, so we'd like to see Samantha this weekend."

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible."

"I know that we're calling late in the week, but I called you as soon as I knew that we were free, but you weren't in. So surely you can arrange for us to see her this weekend."

"Samantha already has plans for this weekend."

"Plans...what kind of plans?"

"She and her sister are scheduled to visit with a prospective family."

"We should have priority over anyone else because we've already said that we want to adopt her, so change her plans," he said in a commanding tone.

"I told you when I introduced you to Samantha and her sister that another couple was also interested in adopting them. They have plans with _that _couple this weekend, and I won't change them, especially at the last minute like this." She says the last sentence firmly.

"They can't come in after we've already said that we want to adopt her and take her away from us. If they think that they can, and you and your department plan to help them do it, then you should know that all of you are in for a fight." He wasn't yelling, but he was definitely angry.

"Mr. Tate, I made you aware from the beginning that another couple was interested in the girls and that there was a possibility that they'd want to adopt, as well, so you didn't have any guarantee that you'd get Samantha. I also told you when you called to say that you and your wife wanted to adopt only Samantha that, until a bond between Samantha, you and your wife could be formed, a couple interested in adopting both girls could keep your adoption from taking place. Neither myself nor my department want anything more than what's best for Samantha _and_ her sister."

"I'm not going to tell my wife that she can't have the little girl who she wants. This isn't over, Mrs. Morales," he said before the line went dead.

Rosa Morales replaced the phone receiver back onto the cradle and sighed. That hadn't gone well.

She knew that she hadn't led the Tates to believe that adopting Samantha was a done deal and she knew that she was within the given power of her position to allow the Rabbs to visit with the girls this weekend, but what she wasn't sure of was if the Rabbs were willing to fight for the girls if Mr. Tate carried out his threat.


	12. Chapter 12

**PART TWO**

**SATURDAY, APRIL 7, 2007**

**RABB SUV**

**EN ROUTE TO**

**SAN DIEGO COUNTY GROUP HOME**

**0930**

**HARM'S POV**

We started out traveling in complete silence. It was the kind of silence that can be distracting. It was too quiet, and that allows one's mind to wonder.

Just where did my mind want to go - to a topic that Mac and I have talked endlessly about in the last few days: when to tell the girls about the baby.

Even after consulting Mrs. Morales, the discussion has gone back and forth, and we're going to pick them up still undecided about whether to tell them now or later.

Hoping that a song with a catchy tune will keep my mind off the subject, I turn on the radio.

The radio plays for a few minutes until Mac reaches over and turns it off.

She doesn't say anything at first. In fact, she doesn't say anything for almost ten minutes. When she does speak, it's a question.

"You're sure that it's best that we wait to tell them, right?"

"The only thing that I'm sure about at this point is that we want them to be our daughters. I'm hoping that the rest will happen when it's supposed to happen," I respond.

"Leaving it to fate, are you?" she says with a grin.

I give her a wide smile and reach for her hand.

"I have a lot of faith in fate after the last couple of years," I reply with a smile before I pull her hand to my lips and place a kiss on the back of it.

She smiles back at me. "I'll try to quit worrying and leave it up to fate then," she says with a sigh.

I complete the drive, holding her hand in the quiet car.

**MEETING ROOM**

**SAN DIEGO COUNTY GROUP HOME**

**1000**

Now that we're here and in the meeting room, she's nervously rubbing her hands together while she paces.

"Mac, you should sit down. We're here to pick up the girls before we meet Mattie and Ty at the mall. You should save your energy for shopping."

Mac comes over and sits down next to me without a moment to spare before the sound of the door opening catches our attention.

Mrs. Morales enters the room, holding the door open for Abigail and Sami, who are apparently apprehensive about seeing their visitors.

This theory is confirmed when we hear Sami's voice from the hall outside the door. "No! No...I don't like them."

Mac grabs my hand in a vise-like grip.

"You don't like us? We like you," I say loudly enough that I'm sure that she can hear me.

A moment later, Sami comes bolting through the doorway.

"It's you! I miss you," Sami says as she makes her way to me.

"I missed you, too," I say as she reaches her arms up to me.

Mac releases my hand as Abigail follows cautiously behind Sami.

With both of my hands free now, I lift Sami into my arms, and her arms wrap around my neck.

Abigail just stands there several feet away from us. "Abigail ... " Mac begins in a soft, tentative voice. "Please come over here so we can talk for a few minutes before we go out."

Abigail's response is to turn and start to walk back to Mrs. Morales at the door.

"Where are you going, Abigail?" Mrs. Morales asks her.

"Back to our room. They just want to tell me that they want only Sami like the other people did."

Mac is off her chair and headed for Abigail in less than a heartbeat.

"We want to adopt both of you." Mac sounds panicked.

Abigail turns around and looks up at Mac. "You want both of us?" Abigail asks as if she can't believe it.

Mac kneels in front of her to be closer to her eye level.

"Yes ... " Mac begins. " ... but we need to find out if you want us. You've met Mattie and Tyler. You'll have to share us with them, and I'm going to have a baby in October..."

I shake my head. So much for the long talks about it ... I guess that fate decided that now was a good time and that just blurting it out was the best way to tell them.

"...and because babies can't do anything for themselves, it takes a lot of time and attention to care for one. So, sometimes it will seem to both of you as if the baby is the only one getting any of our attention. That's why we want to talk to you. We want to know if you want us," Mac explains.

Mrs. Morales touches Abigail's shoulder. "Why don't we join Mr. Rabb and Sami at the table so we can answer any questions that you may have?"

Mac stands and reaches for Abigail's hand. Surprisingly, Abigail allows her to take it, and they walk hand-in-hand to the table where I'm seated, Sami having already perched herself in my lap.

Once we're all seated, Mrs. Morales starts the discussion by asking Sami a question about her earlier reaction. "Why don't you like the other couple, Sami?"

"'Cuz they no like my sister," she replies, making it sound as if the answer was obvious.

Next, Mrs. Morales moves the conversation to more relevant topics that take almost thirty minutes before we're asked to step out into the hallway.

When we get out into the hall, we hear Mrs. Morales speaking to the girls. "Mr. and Mrs. Rabb have told me that they're going to be going to the mall when they leave here. I can't go, but if you'd like to go with them for a few hours, I'll be here when you get back to talk about how your trip to the mall went and to answer any questions that you may have. Would you like to go with them?"

Mac and I hold our breath until we hear one excited yes from Sami and a faint but affirmative response from Abigail.

Several moments later, Mrs. Morales steps into the hall and addresses us.

"I'll be going with you to your car. I need to sign off that you weren't allowed to leave with the children without having the proper child safety seat for Sami as required by law, that it's installed in the vehicle correctly and that you know the proper way to secure the child in the seat. Once I do that, you'll be free to leave with the children.

While Mrs. Morales goes back into the room to get the girls, I call Mattie to let her know that we'll be leaving for the mall in a few minutes so that she can leave the house to meet us and, making it clear that, no matter which group gets to the mall first, they're to wait near the ice skating rink for the others to get there.

**UTC SHOPPING MALL**

**LA JOLLA, CA**

**1120 **

I don't know how long they've been here, but I spot Mattie and Ty watching the ice skaters as we approach the meeting place.

Once we reach Mattie and Ty's position, Mac and Mattie begin to talk as if the rest of us aren't there.

"We have the girls for only three hours today, including travel time and lunch, so that gives us about two hours of actual shopping time to get new outfits for everyone ... " Mac tells Mattie and then amends, " ... well, not everyone. Harm doesn't need anything new and I'll use something out of my closet because I hope to be buying maternity clothes soon."

"I have a new outfit that I bought to wear to meet Paul's parents this weekend. Obviously, my plans have changed, but I still like the outfit, so I can wear it. Even without shopping for the adults, two hours doesn't seem like enough time to get outfits for both girls and Ty, too." There's a pause before Mattie adds, "Maybe we'll have time if we just get them new outfits and not shoes or any accessories."

Ty and I look at each other. Neither one of us sees a problem with the two hour time allotment, but then, we aren't girls.

"No, I want to get them the whole nine yards for Easter," Mac continues, unaware of our confusion.

"New shoes, too?" Abigail asks.

"Yes, a whole new outfit," Mac replies and is rewarded with the first genuinely happy smile that we've ever seen on Abigail's face.

I voice my observation. "Mac, I see another thing that the two of you have in common besides your hair and eye color. Your faces light up when someone mentions buying you a new pair of shoes."

I get a dirty look from Mac before she outlines the plan.

"Ty's outgrown all of his other dress clothes, so, Harm, you take Ty and get him a new dress shirt, slacks and dress shoes while Mattie and I look for outfits for the girls."

"Can do. Then do you want to meet back here in thirty minutes?" I ask, assuming that thirty minutes will be plenty of time.

"That doesn't give us enough time," Mac replies, sounding annoyed in that 'guys just don't get it' voice before she asks sweetly, "Do you have your cellphone with you?"

'Why didn't I just leave it at 'can do'?' I wonder.

"Yes," I answer.

"Then you and Ty go shopping. When you get an outfit for Ty, including new dress shoes, call me. We'll decide then if we should take a break for lunch or tell you which store we're in so that you can meet us there if we need to do more shopping," Mac says, obviously pleased with her plan.

Mac takes Abigail's hand and Mattie takes Sami's.

"Let's get started," Mac declares as they head off to stores unknown.

Now that we've been left to fend for ourselves, I lead Ty to the arcade.

We spend the next thirty minutes playing games before we go to a store to shop.

Twenty minutes after we enter the store, we've put together an outfit in his size, picked out a pair of shoes and are second in line at a checkout. It would've taken us less time, but the shoe department isn't next to the boys department, and we had to walk across the store and wait for a salesperson to bring us the shoes that we wanted in his size.

After we check out, I pull out my cellphone and dial Mac's number.

It turns out that they've just entered the store that we're in, so we're told to proceed to the girls department to meet them.

Mac and Mattie used all the time allotted, but the shopping trip was a success, and Mac and I left the mall to take the girls back to the home while Mattie took Ty over to Grandma's to get started on dying eggs for tomorrow's Easter egg hunt.

**SUNDAY, APRIL 8, 2007**

**BACK DECK**

**BURNETT HOME**

**1150**

My mother watched the children search for eggs, but excused herself to check on a few things, leaving the rest of the family to tally the collected eggs.

Mattie observes as Ty counts his. I help Sami count hers, and Mac watches as Abigail counts her eggs. When the adult with the child has verified the count, each of the adults passes a small piece of paper with the number of eggs written on it to Frank, who's been designated as the official in the event.

Frank quickly adds up the three pieces of paper to make sure that all the eggs have been found and is prepared to announce the results of the contest when my mom returns, carrying a wicker basket.

"You're back in time to hear the official results of the Easter egg hunt," Frank announces.

"You couldn't announce the winners without me. I have the prize basket. After we award the prizes, I've set out a few things to snack on until we have dinner."

"In third place ... " Frank reaches into the small, oval, wicker basket that's now on the table in front of him and pulls out a stuffed yellow bunny. " ... and winner of this little bunny for finding ten eggs is ... Sami!"

Frank makes a production of awarding the bunny to Sami as Mattie snaps a picture.

"In second place ... " This time, he pulls out a foot-tall teddy bear dressed in an Easter dress. " ... and winner of this special Easter teddy bear for finding twelve eggs is ... Abigail!"

Again, Frank performs his award ceremony while Mattie takes a picture.

"It was a very close race. Only four eggs separate first and third place, but with fourteen eggs ... Ty takes first place." Frank reaches into the basket, pulls out a box and turns it around to show us that it's a decorated, hollow, chocolate, Easter egg before presenting it to Ty in the same ceremonious manner as the girls.

Ty is at an age where he knows that the chocolate egg isn't as expensive a gift as the other two, but he doesn't say a word as Mattie snaps a picture of him accepting his prize, though I'm sure that he's a little let down after the big prize money that he was awarded last year.

**BURNETT HOME**

**1845**

Mac and I return to my parents' house after taking the girls back to the home, and we're greeted by Ty who has a dozen things to show us.

Not knowing exactly what would be appropriate items to give the girls since they had to return to the group home today, my parents had waited to give Ty his Easter basket and a twenty dollar bill as the 'real' prize for the egg hunt, along with an explanation of why they'd done it that way.

After letting Ty show off his Easter basket loot of candy and new DVD movies, I go in search of my mom.

I find her in the kitchen, wiping down the kitchen counters. "Mom, we're back."

She turns around, and I see that she's been crying.

"Do you know when you'll be seeing the girls again?" she asks as she wipes her eyes with her apron.

"We don't have a firm date, but we hope to spend some time with them next weekend," I answer, wondering why she's so upset.

"It sounds as if things are going to move along pretty quickly now," she says, regaining her poise.

"Yes, we're trying to move things along as rapidly as allowed. We'd like to have the girls living with us soon so that they have some time to settle in before the baby gets here," I explain.

"So they know about the baby?" she asks, apparently a little surprised.

"Yes. I'm sure that they don't understand what it means to have a baby coming into the family at the same time that we're bringing them into the family, but I'm hoping that fate will intervene and help us out," I reply, glancing heavenward.

"Do _you_ understand?" she asks with a grin.

"No, that's why I'm sure that they don't," I say with a chuckle. I start to leave, but quickly turn back, remembering what I'd wanted to tell my mother. "I came in here to thank you for moving dinner time up to accommodate the girls eating with us."

"You don't have to thank me." Her voice cracks as if she's fighting tears again. "I wasn't sure why you wanted to take on the girls when you're going to have a little one of your own soon, but after spending today with them ... Abigail is so sad and that Sami is absolutely adorable ... I understand why now."

I see the tears in her eyes and quickly move in to give her a hug.

"Thank you, Mom," I say as we embrace.

"For what this time?" she asks.

"For your support, your understanding ... for just being you."

"Come on, dear, let's go join the rest of the family on the deck," she says with a smile as she heads out of the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

**PART THREE **

**WEDNESDAY, APRIL 11, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**JLS**

**1340**

**HARM'S POV**

Since we haven't told anyone outside the family about the baby yet, except Mrs. Morales, we didn't feel like we could ask for the entire day off for this momentous doctor's appointment, but we managed to get half a day and, if all goes well this afternoon, Mac should feel more comfortable with telling people about the baby.

I stop at PO Coates' desk, and my civilian attire seems to throw her off a little.

"Captain, it's nice to see you. The colonel said that you were coming by. She should be back in a moment. She probably went to the ladies room. She said that the two of you have an appointment to attend together. Is everything all right, sir?" Jennifer says all this without taking a breath.

Mac would have told me if she'd mentioned anything to Jennifer, so she's just on a fishing expedition.

Of course, if I weren't equal parts nervous and excited about the doctor's visit today, she might be able to figure out what's going on by the huge grin that appears on my face every time I think about the baby.

"Yes, everything's fine, Jennifer."

"I was just wondering. I mean she's been going to the ladies room a lot lately. I thought maybe she had a bladder infection or something like that. You'd tell me if something was wrong with the colonel, wouldn't you, sir?"

"Of course, but I assure you that everything's fine."

"When I talked to Mattie the other night, she didn't seem to think that the colonel's behavior, you know, sir, the crying, the fatigue and more recently the increased number of trips to the ladies room were cause to worry. I didn't even tell her about the colonel submitting her request for retirement. Hearing her say that you two had an appointment made me wonder if you don't know what's wrong yet and perhaps the appointment that you're going to is with a doctor."

Mac enters, obviously having been in the ladies room changing into civilian clothes because she's in a dress and carrying a garment bag folded over her arm.

"Petty Officer Coates, are you interrogating my husband?"

Coates snaps to attention. "No, ma'am. I was just voicing concern about the colonel's health, ma'am."

"My office now, Petty Officer," Mac orders.

"Yes, ma'am," Jennifer says as she heads towards Mac's door.

"You, too," Mac says, looking at me.

"Why? What did I do?" I ask.

Mac rolls her eyes and waits for me to move into her office so that she can enter last.

Once in her office, she closes the door behind her, hands her garment bag off to me and walks over in front of her desk where Jennifer Coates is standing at attention, ready to take her butt chewing.

"At ease, Petty Officer," Mac orders.

Once Coates has done as ordered, Mac leans back against her desk.

"Jennifer, I appreciate your concern, but there's no need for it. I wanted to wait until after today's appointment to tell anyone, but if you promise to keep the news to yourself, I think that your concern warrants an explanation. Will you do as I ask and not repeat what I'm about to tell you?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"There's no need for concern because nothing that I'm doing is out of the ordinary for a woman who's going to have a baby."

"Ma'am, did you say baby?"

"Yes, I did."

"A baby!" The words come out of Jennifer's mouth in a loud squeal before she breaks protocol and hugs Mac. "I'm so happy for you."

Mac allows the show of excitement and offers a simple "thank you" before telling Jennifer, "I've got a doctor's appointment and I don't want to be late, so we need to shove off."

Jennifer Coates can't leave it at that. She has one more question. "Ma'am, may I ask why you don't want me to tell anyone?"

"We just want to make sure that everything's all right before we spread the news, and today is a big appointment for us. If all goes well this afternoon, I think that it'll be time to start telling people before they can see it for themselves ... and keeping the news under your hat is an order. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, ma'am - not a word to anyone."

"That'll be all, Petty Officer. Dismissed."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Jennifer replies before vacating Mac's office with a smile replacing the worry lines that she'd had earlier when she'd been speaking to me.

"Since you told Jennifer about the baby, you must be feeling pretty good about this afternoon."

"I don't know about that, but I figure, if it's good news, I'd be telling her tomorrow anyway, and if it's bad news, she'd deserve to know why I'd be hiding in my office or, when I did go out, why I snapped at everyone. Through Mattie, Jennifer is practically family, so I probably should've told her sooner, but the last time I asked her to keep something under her hat was when the admiral punched out while flying with you, and the news traveled like wildfire through the office. I hope that ordering her not to say anything will work better than simply asking her not to say anything."

"If it doesn't work, you could always court martial her for disobeying a direct order," I state.

Mac moves in close to me and lowers her voice to that sexy purr of hers.

"Well, the problem with that is that she has this handsome sailor attorney that she's used before, and he's pretty good. He could probably get her acquitted of the charges."

I drop my head until our lips are less than an inch apart. "And I hear that he's friendly enough with her CO that he might be able to get the charges dropped."

I place a quick kiss on her lips.

"Not with a kiss like that, you wouldn't," Mac parries back.

We both laugh and head out of her office to go to our appointment.

As we pass Jennifer's desk, Mac gives her a stern look of warning to keep the news to herself until she has clearance to do otherwise.

**RABB SUV**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

"Oh, I haven't told you yet about the call that I got from Mrs. Morales this morning, have I?" Mac asks.

"No, the girls okay?"

"Yes, they're fine. She just wanted to let me know that she'd been reviewing a housing check list and she saw a potential problem - our pool. She reminded me that we didn't live in the house when she monitored Ty's case, and at Ty and Abigail's age, it might not be a concern to the home inspector, but since Sami isn't quite three yet, she's sure that it'll be an issue that we'll need to address. She said that there are alarms that are available that would be a fairly inexpensive and acceptable solution. She also said that the girls won't be allowed to spend the night with us until after the house is inspected and the safety requirements have been met."

"Then I guess that I'll be conducting a safety inspection of my own later today," I reply, glancing at her.

"Mrs. Morales said that there was a slot open in the inspector's schedule next Wednesday at 1300. I told her that I could take a late lunch and meet them at the house."

"I'm glad to see that I'm not under any time pressure here," I say with mock sarcasm.

"I can call her back and have her change it, but she said that, if we passed, she could arrange for us to have the girls for one night the following weekend. She'd bring them by on Friday evening and they could stay until Saturday evening. If things go well with that overnight stay, we could have them on the following Friday, but they wouldn't have to be back until Sunday afternoon."

"It sounds like I have a lot more to do before Wednesday than inspect the house for possible safety hazzards. We haven't prepared rooms for the girls yet. I know that I can count on Mom and Frank to help, and with Mattie and Ty both out of school right now, they can lend a hand," I say, thinking out loud about all the preparations that need to be made.

"I don't think that it'll be that much work to get their room ready," Mac says calmly.

"Their room?" I ask.

"Yeah, I think, at least for the first few months, it would be better for them to share a room. They share their current space with several other girls. Having only two in a room should make them feel like they have their own space, yet they won't feel as if they're alone."

"I think that's a good idea," I say, smiling at her.

We spend the rest of our drive talking about the decor that Mac has envisioned for the girls' joint bedroom.

**BURNETT HOME**

**1600**

With Mattie and my mother working at the gallery, Mac and I aren't taken aback by the quietness of the house. We also know that we'll find Ty in Frank's den at this hour, watching a movie and waiting for one of us to pick him up to take him home.

Frank comes out of the kitchen with a glass of juice in his hand, presumably headed back to his den with it for Ty. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of us.

"Well, how did the appointment go?" I think that he's actually holding his breath, waiting for the answer.

"I had a complete check up and everything's fine," Mac answers.

"So I can start bragging that I'm going to be a grandpa again?" he asks while letting out the breath that he'd been holding.

"Yes, spread the word," I reply.

"Momma, how's the baby?" We hear from Ty who's coming up behind us.

Both Mac and I turn around, but Mac answers.

"The baby and I are just fine. In fact, I'm feeling so good that I made Dad take me shopping before we came to pick you up."

"And she feels much better, let me tell you, but our bank account, on the other hand, isn't feeling very well," I say, teasing Mac.

"What did you buy?" Ty asks, both he and Mac ignoring my comment.

I make another attempt to tease Mac. "What didn't she buy would be a better question."

"You're just upset that you didn't get anything new," Mac says to me with a wink before addressing Ty. "Well, if you're ready to go home, you can help Dad take it out of the car, and I'll show you what I bought."

"Are you doing anything right now, Frank?" I ask.

"No, why?"

"Care to tag along to our place? I've got a few things to do at the house and I could sure use some help."

"I can help you, Dad!" Ty says.

"You haven't seen how much stuff Momma bought yet, because if you had, you'd know that I need all the help that I can get," I respond.

"I didn't buy that much, Harm," Mac says with a sigh.

"No, you didn't, but some of the stuff you bought requires moving furniture. Then there's the matter of a home safety walk-through, and someone who could help me spot possible safety issues would be very helpful."

"Harm, I can help you move the furniture," Mac says with some impatience.

"Oh, no you don't. You and the baby are doing well, and we're going to keep it that way. You will _not_ be moving any furniture or boxes or anything of the sort from now until the baby's here."

"Yes, sir," Mac says with a mock salute and a smile.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**2325 **

I wake to find that I'm alone in bed.

I look towards the bathroom, but the door is open. I look to our bedroom door, and it's open, too.

I get out of bed and slip on a robe before going in search of my wife.

I find her standing in the middle of the room across the hall from ours.

"Hey, what are you doing in here at this hour? You should be sleeping," I say, gently chiding her.

I know that she heard me, but she hasn't turned around, so when I get close enough, I wrap my arms around her before whispering in her ear, "What are you thinking about?"

"A lot of things," she replies, still not turning to face me.

"Well, how about you tell me one thing for starters?"

"Well, for one, is this really the best room for the girls or should we put the baby in here and the girls in the room next to us?"

"I thought that we all agreed that this room was the best choice before Frank and I moved the furniture out so that you'd have a clean slate to start your decorating."

"I know, but I want to be sure that this is the right room for them."

"It is. So what's another thing on your mind?"

"You."

"Me? Why?"

"I was in this room, thinking about the girls and how we decided to adopt them, and that's when I started to think about you. I'd thought that, since we've been married, we'd been getting better at talking about things, but that isn't true now, is it?"

"I think we are. Why would you think that we aren't?" I ask with a frown.

She turns in my arms and lifts her head to look me in the eye. "We discuss things, that's true, but you don't tell me how you feel. Take, for instance, adopting the girls. We talked about what was best for them ... what would be good for me and the baby, for Ty, for Mattie, but you never once said how you felt about it ... and when you were having doubts about whether we'd made the right choice, you didn't say a word to me. If Ty hadn't asked about them that Sunday and Mattie hadn't upset you, I would never have known that you were having doubts."

"Mac, I wasn't keeping it from you. I didn't know that I was feeling that way until it came out of my mouth."

"So you don't take the time to think about how you feel about something ... or someone?"

"I wouldn't say that or I wouldn't be here with you, but ... before all this, I lived in the moment. I didn't stop to think about the past and how it might be affecting my present and future, and I didn't take the time to analyze how I felt about things. I've never been very introspective, so I really don't know how to explain."

"I know now that you want the girls to be your daughters. Can you tell me how you feel about the baby? Do you realize that you haven't said a word about the baby since we were at the doctor's office? I know that you want the baby because you sure went through a lot to get it, but you never said how you felt about that either. You didn't have any real reaction to the outfit that I showed you while we were out shopping today. You just said, 'I don't know if that outfit will work because we don't know if it's a boy or a girl. Are you having second thoughts? Are you upset that I couldn't get pregnant the old fashioned way? What are you thinking ... feeling? I need to know, Harm."

"I ... " is all I get out before I get choked up at the sight of the tears in her eyes. After I clear my throat, I begin again. "I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Well, think about it out loud. What was going through your mind while you were holding my hand at the doctor's office this afternoon?"

"Well, first when the doc said that you'd gained two of the three pounds back that you'd lost, I was relieved. I thought that it was a good sign that the rest of the appointment was going to go well and that you and the baby were okay."

"What was your first thought when you heard the baby's heartbeat?"

"My first thought was I'm going to be a father. That's my daughter's heartbeat."

"And how did you feel about that?" she asks.

"I was feeling a lot of things: excited, nervous, happy and ... " I add hestitantly, " ... and a little scared."

"You're a good dad. Why would you be scared?"

"I may be a good dad, but I don't know if I'm going to be a good father. It's got to be different starting with one from the beginning ... and that isn't the only thing that scares me."

She's looking into my eyes. Why is it that, since we've been married, she can look at me that way and it acts like some kind of truth serum? I not only have to tell her the truth, but the whole truth.

"After hearing the heartbeat, it made the baby seem more real to me, and now I'm scared that something might go wrong."

She offers me the kindest smile and has the warmest look in her eyes as she responds to my out-of-character confession of fear.

"It's strange how we're so alike and yet so different. You've been strong and supportive, telling me that everything's going to be fine since I got pregnant, and now that I've heard the heartbeat, I'm sure that everything's going to be fine, and you're the one who's worrying." She pauses to put her palms on either side of my face. "I trusted you when you told me that everything was going to be fine. I want you to trust me now. Everything is fine now, and it's going to stay that way. You're going to be a father and you're going to be good at it."

She pushes herself up onto her tiptoes and gives me a soft kiss. "I love you."

"And I love you," I respond.

"Let's go back to our room and get some sleep. We've got a busy week ahead of us if we're going to be ready for the girls by a week from Friday," she says as she takes my hand.

A few moments later, we're snuggling into bed when she asks, "Now, tell me how you know that it's a girl when the doctor can't tell from just hearing the heartbeat."

I pull her in close as I whisper back, "A father just knows."


	14. Chapter 14

**PART FOUR **

**FRIDAY, APRIL 20, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1655**

**HARM'S POV**

Mac and I both managed to get out of our offices thirty minutes early today so that we could be sure to be at the house by 1700 when Mrs. Morales is supposed to drop off the girls for their first overnight visit.

In honor of the children coming for dinner tonight, I've taken a page from Miss Nancy's notes and have planned to prepare one of Ty's favorite meals, complete with the blue box of macaroni and cheese.

We're all in the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for them to arrive ... well, everyone except Mattie. She said that just sitting here waiting was driving her crazy and she needed to be doing something, so she went to her room to play a computer game until she hears the doorbell.

Mrs. Morales is usually early for her appointments. 'I wonder why she isn't here already,' is the thought that's running through my head. 'We passed the home inspection on Wednesday, so there can't be a problem there.'

"Dad, what time is it now?" Ty asks, forcing me to stop analyzing the reasons for Mrs. Morales' delay for the moment.

"1655," I answer, forgetting that my son is from a civilian background and hasn't come to an understanding of military time yet.

Ty tries a different approach. "Momma, how much longer until they get here?"

"Four minutes and twenty-nine seconds, if they're on time," Mac replies.

"Why wouldn't they be on time?" Ty asks.

"Traffic problems could delay them," I answer, giving the most logical and the least scary possibility.

**1710**

"Isn't it time yet?" Ty asks.

"Yes, but like Dad said, Miss Rosa could be stuck in traffic." Mac pauses after answering his question before asking Ty one. "Ty, would you do me a favor?"

"Yes, Momma, what?"

"Will you go to the kitchen and bring me a bottle of water, please?"

"Sure, be right back."

Ty jumps off the couch and makes a dash to the kitchen for Mac's requested water.

"Harm, do you think that something's happened?" She quickly rephrases, "I mean with them being allowed to come over, not to them. Oh, God, I hope there hasn't been an accident."

"It does seem very unlikely that she'd be this late, at least without calling, but I don't think that anything bad has happened to them," I say, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah, probably just traffic like you said earlier. I'm worrying for nothing, right?" she asks, seeminly seeking further reassurance from me.

It's then that the doorbell rings, and we breathe a sigh of relief. I give Mac's leg a pat before I stand to answer the door.

As I approach the door, I hear Ty say to Mac, "Momma, they're here. Here's your water."

I open the door with a big smile, and my two little girls enter the house. All is right in my world now.

Mrs. Morales enters behind the girls, offering an explanation. "Sorry, I'm late. The traffic was awful, and I didn't want to take my eyes off the road to call."

To make sure that the girls are comfortable with spending the night with us, Mrs. Morales is going to stay for a little while.

As part of having the girls feel at home, Mac takes them and Mrs. Morales to see the room that we prepared for them, while I head to the kitchen with Ty to start dinner.

In the kitchen with Ty, I find that I'm a little distracted with thoughts of whether or not Abigail and Sami will like the room that we spent last weekend putting together for them.

I'd skipped my morning swim last Saturday to go to the store to purchase paint. Mac managed to find bedding that suited each girl and that looked good together, without matching. Mac's vision had been to paint accent walls a color that matched the bedding choice, but when Mac realized how much pink and white was going to be in the room, she changed her mind. So, before two, crisp, white dressers and two, white, bookcase headboard twin beds had been delivered on Saturday afternoon, I'd painted all four walls a pale green.

Sami's bedding has ladybugs and flowers on one side and a gingham pattern on the other. Mac said that she hoped that it would occasionally remind her that she was a girl, but because of her non-typical fascination for bugs of all kinds, it would be something that she wouldn't feel was too girly like her sister's.

I think that Mac had been unsure of the shade of green that I'd chosen until she'd completed the room by putting the pink and white Disney Princess Ribbons and Roses comforter set that she'd bought for Abigail on her bed. Then, she'd said that the color of the walls was perfect because it gave the eye a break from all the pink and white in the room and brought out the little bit of green that's in the comforters.

I'm thrilled when, a few minutes after Mac and I went our separate ways, she comes into the kitchen with the girls to tell me that they like their room.

Abigail is delighted with the idea of being a princess. Sami, of course, is more animated and says that her favorite part is her ladybug bedspread. Then, she changes her mind and tells me that her really favorite part is the butterfly net on the wall with the butterflies flying out.

I wish I could take credit for the room, but it was all Mac's design, right down to the butterflies painted on the wall to make it look as if they're flying out of the net.

Once dinner is ready and the girls seem settled, Mrs. Morales bids us goodnight so that we can have our first family meal with our new daughters in what will soon be their home.

**2145**

I jump off the couch and run to the girls' room at the sound of Sami screaming, "No, no, no!"

I arrive at their door to see Sami sitting up in bed crying as Abigail tries to comfort her.

I've run to the room in a panic, but decide that it isn't a good emotion to show an obviously scared little girl, so I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as I enter the room.

"What's wrong, Sami?" I ask calmly as I make my way to her bed.

"She had a bad dream," Abigail answers.

Mac, who'd followed me into the room, asks, "What happened in the dream?"

I sit on the edge of the bed behind Abigail. She's still very distrusting of me, so I don't want to sit too close to her. Therefore, I allow enough space for Mac to sit between us. I hope that she'll feel more comfortable the more time she spends with us and that I won't always have to be so cautious.

However, Mac doesn't have a chance to sit down because, the moment I sit on the bed, Abigail gets off and returns to her own bed. Sensing Abigail's insecurity around me and knowing that Sami has no qualms about being close to me - in fact, she seems to prefer me to Mac - Mac listens to Sami tell about her bad dream while she tucks Abigail back into her own bed.

"A monster came out from under the bed and took me away. He took Abigail, too, and we never ever got to see you again," Sami says, still sobbing.

I put my arms around my little girl to comfort her. "I'm pretty sure that there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet, but I'll check," I reply, giving her a little squeeze.

I release my hold on Sami and move to the closet, open it, poke my head in and take a moment to actually look around in there before stepping back and closing the door.

"No, definitely no monsters in there," I say as I move back to her bed and get down on all fours to look under it before looking up at Sami from the floor. "No monsters here either."

I then stand up and sit on the edge of the bed again. "See, there are no monsters in your room, so let's get you back into bed. If a monster were to come in and try to take you away ... " I say as I pull the covers up over her. " ... he'd be in for a real fight because I wouldn't let anyone take you ... " I look over at Abigail, who Mac has tucked back into bed. " ... or your sister away without one."

"Like the handsome prince does to save the princess in fairy tales," Mac adds, looking at me with a smile.

That statement causes them to ask for a bedtime story, so Mac begins, "Once upon a time ... "

We sit on the sides of their beds until they've fallen back to sleep with their bunny and bear from Easter snuggled up next to them to keep them company.

As we head to our bedroom to get some sleep, Mac and I stop at the doorway to take one last look at our sleeping daughters.

**SATURDAY, APRIL 28, 2007**

**ABIGAIL & SAMI'S ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0230**

**MAC'S POV**

The need to use the bathroom wakes me and, as I get out of bed, the sight of my soundly sleeping husband causes me to smile.

When I come out of the bathroom, I decide to check on the girls before I go back to bed.

I go into their room and notice light coming out from under their beds. I smile at the memory of how those lights came to be there.

Because Sami had had a nightmare the previous Friday night when she and Abigail had spent the night with us, Harm had stopped by a hardware store to pick up a couple of things last Saturday afternoon after the girls had left to go back to the group home.

Last night, after we'd tucked in the girls, Sami had asked Harm to check for monsters under the bed again.

********FLASHBACK********

"I will, but before I do that, I need to go get something."

Harm returns a few moments later with a shopping bag from a home improvement store. He doesn't say anything when he enters the room, but he moves quickly to the closet. After he's opened the door and checked inside, he closes it. "Just checking, but there are no monsters in there."

He reaches into the plastic bag and pulls out a push light. "Now, I'll look under Abigail's bed and, if there are no monsters under there ... " He waves the light in the air. " ... I'll set the monster trap."

Sami's eyes are as big as saucers and focused on Harm as he gets down on the floor and pretends to check for monsters before rising up to a kneeling position. "No monsters, so we'll set the trap." He places the light under the bed and pushes the top down, turning it on. "Mac, will you turn off the light so we can make sure that it's working properly?"

I switch off the light as instructed, and the light from under the bed gives off a soft glow.

"You can turn the light back on now so we can set one under Sami's bed."

Harm repeats the "setting process" for the light under Sami's bed, but, before he calls for the light to be shut off, he tells the girls a tall tale.

"You see, these traps are working when the lights are on, but, if a monster should appear, it will trap the monster, the light will go out and there will be no more monsters."

"There's no such thing as monsters under the bed," Abigail says.

"Is, too," Sami counters in reply.

"Well, some believe there are and some don't, but do you know what I say? Why take chances? We'll just leave the traps here until we know for sure or until the li ... trap catches the monster. Okay?"

Harm gets an excited "okay" from Sami and a "if it makes Sami feel better" from Abigail, and then they're ready for bed.

********END FLASHBACK********

I look at the peacefully sleeping girls one last time before returning to our bedroom where I give my wonderful husband, a big man with a heart of gold, a kiss on the cheek.

He mutters, "What was that for?"

"For not discouraging our daughter's imagination or making her feel that she wasn't entitled to her feelings, but, at the same time, not encouraging her fears and for making her feel safe."

"Okay," he mutters in reply.

I don't think that he's awake enough to process what I've just said.

I snuggle up to him and chuckle at the thought of the looks that he must have gotten at the store when an employee asked, "Can I help you find something?" and he replied, "I'm looking for an under-the-bed monster trap."

**SUNDAY, APRIL 29, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1330**

**HARM'S POV**

We're expecting Mrs. Morales to come for the girls, so it's no surprise when the doorbell sounds until Mac announces that it's only 1330, meaning that she's thirty minutes early.

I answer the door, and two people are standing there, Mrs. Morales and a man whom I don't know.

"Mr. Rabb, this is Sidney Smith. Mr. Smith and I would like to speak to you and Mrs. Rabb privately," Mrs. Morales says to me.

"All right, please come in. Everyone is in the living room watching a movie, so Mattie can keep an eye on the children while we talk in the den."

**DEN**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

"Mr. and Mrs. Rabb, I've brought Mrs. Morales along to pick up the girls because they don't know me yet, but, from this day forward, I'll be in charge of their case," Mr. Smith explains.

Mac and I look at Mrs. Morales.

"After a complaint came into the office on Friday afternoon, my superiors met in an emergency session yesterday afternoon to discuss the best course of action. It was determined at that meeting that, while the accusations are being investigated, I'm to be replaced on this case," Mrs. Morales informs us.

"This is going to be difficult to hear and it doesn't bring me any joy to have to be the one who tells you this, but the girls will be starting visitation with another family," Mr. Smith adds.

"Since we've already expressed our desire to adopt the girls, why are they going to start seeing another family?" Mac asks.

"The compliant on Friday alleges that Mrs. Morales mishandled the Walker girls' case," Mr. Smith answers.

"Meaning?" Mac asks.

"I'm accused of failing to give another qualified couple equal access to the girls so that a determination could be made as to the best placement for them," Mrs. Morales answers, taking the awkwardness out of the moment for Mr. Smith.

"Mr. Smith, we were told that another couple had met the girls after we had, but that they wanted only one of them, and since we wanted to adopt both of them, we were the preferred couple," I say.

"I haven't read their file yet, so I have only what my superiors told me when they assigned me this case over the phone late yesterday afternoon. Please understand that it doesn't happen very often, but when we have two qualified couples who want to adopt the same child or, in this case, children, we tend to go with the ones who requested them first. It's my understanding that the other couple did tell Mrs. Morales that they wanted the girls before you did. So we have to go back and try to correct the error by giving the other couple a chance to adopt the girls now. I'm sure that you're upset by the news that you won't be seeing the Walker girls again, but -"

"You mean that you're waltzing in here to take them to another home? That's it for us? We won't be seeing them again?" I cut in, my tone laced with anger and fear.

"They won't be going to see the other couple this afternoon, but they will begin visits with them in the coming week, and yes, if everything goes well with the new couple, then this is the last time that you'll see the Walker girls." Mr. Smith attempts empathy as he continues, "I'm sorry to have to put you through this, but I'm only trying to right a wrong by putting the Walker girls with the couple with whom they should've been placed from the beginning. Mr. and Mrs. Rabb, this isn't going to be any easier if we put it off, so would you please get the girls ready to leave?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Rabb," Mrs. Morales begins," I want to tell you that I'm sure that I'll be cleared of the accusations because I did _not _mishandle this case. Since I was removed from only this one case, I don't believe that my superiors truly believe that my actions were inappropriate in any way." Mrs. Morales begins to cry. "I'm sorry that you and the girls got mixed up in this because I believe that you're the best possible parents for those two little girls."

"Mac, why don't you take Mr. Smith out to meet everyone while Mrs. Morales stays in here and composes herself for a few minutes?" I ask while I reach for the box of Kleenex on Mac's desk.

From my suggestion, Mac understands the nonverbal communication that I want to ask Mrs. Morales a few questions, and she responds, "Come with me, Mr. Smith, and I'll introduce you to the Walker girls and the rest of our family."

I wait for Mac and Mr. Smith to leave the room.

I don't know how much time I have before Mr. Smith, who doesn't seem to have any qualms about taking my daughters, will be ready to leave.

"Mrs. Morales, what did you want to say that you couldn't say in front of him?"

"In the complaint, it states that the other couple informed me that he and his wife wanted both girls, but I swear that isn't what he told me. He said that they wanted only Sami. I also wanted you and your wife to know that I'm sorry that I didn't take his threat more seriously."

"What threat?"

"It was several days after you called to say that you wanted to adopt both of the girls that he called me. He said that they wanted Sami, and that if you and your wife thought that you could just come in and take the little girl whom his wife wanted away from her, and if my department or I planned to help you do it, then we were all in for a fight. It's been more than three weeks since that call, so I assumed that he'd just been blowing off steam, but, from what I understand, late on Friday afternoon, his complaint came across the director's desk of the Adoption Division of Child Services, and then the director met with lawyers for the rest of the day. Consequently, my supervisor was called in for an emergency meeting yesterday."

"I'm a criminal lawyer, so I don't know much about adoption law. Tell me, is there any way to fight this decision?" I ask.

"You could file a counter complaint, sometimes referred to as a letter of appeal, stating that, since a bond between your family and the girls has already been established, you believe that it's in the best interest of the children that you be allowed to adopt them."

"Then that's what we'll do. I'll have it in the director's office tomorrow morning."

"Harm, I want to warn you that, since I now know that he was serious about his threat and, judging from the tone of his voice, I'd have to say that he's going to fight you every step of the way, you have to consider the possibility that you might not win this fight."

"I realize that, but I have to try."

"I'm so sorry for what this is going to put you through. I mean, I know that you already had concerns about your wife's health. This isn't going to be good for her."

"Are you kidding? She's a Marine, and Marines love a good fight," I say with a grin. "Well, we'd better get out there to see how things are going," I add, ending our conversation.

**LIVING ROOM **

**MOMENTS LATER**

Mrs. Morales and I plaster artificial smiles on our faces and head into the living room, but no one in here is smiling.

Mattie is sitting in a chair with her arms around Ty, trying to comfort him.

Mac is sitting on the couch with a little girl on each side of her, an arm around each of them, and all of them are crying.

Mac, sensing my presence, looks up at me.

"He told them to say goodbye. He told them that they wouldn't be coming back for a long time, maybe ever."

I give Mr. Smith an evil look while picking up Sami, freeing Mac to comfort only Abigail.

Between her tears, Sami whispers, "Don't let him take me."

"We knew when you came on Friday that you couldn't stay forever. Mrs. Morales is going to take you back to the home just like the rules say," I reply, trying to calm her.

"But if we go, I'll never see you again," Sami says between sobs.

"You'll see me again. It may not be next week. It may be a long time from now, but you'll see me again. I promise."

"And he never breaks a promise," Mac adds.

"We need to go," Mr. Smith announces firmly.

Mrs. Morales goes to get their things while Mattie and Ty exchange tearful hugs with the girls before Mac does, too.

I manage to keep my confidant fighter pilot image intact as I kiss Abigail on top of her head and tell her that I'm going to miss her. However, my facade starts to crack as I hug Sami and give the end of her nose a little peck.

Mac and I walk outside, holding the girls hands all the way to the car.

We stand on the driveway near the street with an arm around the waist of the other and wave goodbye to them until the taillights of the car disappear when the car turns the corner.

"I put the traps in the wrong place. The monster wasn't under the bed. He came right through the front door to take our girls away," I say with disgust.

"We are going to fight for them, aren't we?" Mac asks with a sniffle.

I look down into her eyes that are still puffy from crying.

"Damn right we are," I reply tersely before we walk back to the house.

Once in the house, I fill in the entire family on what Mrs. Morales suggested that we do and caution them that it may be a while before we see the girls again, but that the fight to adopt both girls will begin tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**PART FIVE **

**MONDAY, APRIL 30, 2007**

**DINING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**DINNERTIME**

**MAC'S POV**

This is a time when we normally discuss our day or talk about the activity that we're going to do after dinner as we eat heartily, and since the children returned to school today for their final quarter before the end of the year, they should have plenty to say, but, tonight, everyone is quiet. We're all sitting around the table, pushing our food around on our plates instead of eating.

Tonight, the hearts at the table are heavy, and each one of us is dealing with the sense of loss that saying goodbye to Abigail and Sami yesterday afternoon has left within each one of us.

It's Mattie who breaks the silence around the table. "If no one's going to volunteer information, I'm going to ask. Did you submit the letter of appeal to Child Services today?"

"I did, but no one has contacted me about it yet," Harm replies.

"When are we going to find out if Abigail and Sami get to come back?" Ty asks.

"I don't know. I was told that Child Services should respond to the letter that I sent within five working days. The reply will more than likely be sent to us through the mail, so that means that we probably won't know anything until next week," Harm answers.

"What else can we do?" Mattie asks.

"Nothing at the moment," Harm replies.

"This sucks," Mattie says.

I'm expecting Harm to caution her against using the word in that context, but instead he says, "Yeah, it does ... big time."

"Yeah, big time," Ty repeats.

I want to ask so many questions, but I don't think that I should in front of Mattie and Ty.

As I push a fork full of dinner into my mouth, I decide that my questions can wait until tonight when Harm and I are alone.

We each retreat into ourselves once again to deal with our own emotions as we finish eating our dinner in silence, though no one eats everything on their plate.

**MASTER BEDROOM  
BEDTIME **

After changing for bed, I felt compelled to go check on Ty.

When I left Ty's room, I had an urge that I've never had before - to go check on Mattie.

Because of the extra stop, I've been gone longer than I'd intended and, when I get back to our room, Harm is already in bed, leaning back against pillows propped against the headboard and reading.

He looks up at me and places a bookmark between the pages before closing the book and placing it on the night table next to him.

I begin to untie my robe. "Harm, how are you handling the news about the girls?"

"I made a couple of calls this morning. I drafted the letter to Child Services and arranged to have it delivered to the director's office before noon. I spent a few hours in the law library and more time on the phone this afternoon with an attorney who specializes in family and adoption law. I guess the simple answer is that I'm handling it by feeling like I'm doing something about it. I'm fighting to get them back."

I slip off my robe and place it across the foot of our bed. "In your research today, did you find any precedence that indicates that we have a chance to get them back?"

"Since placements of children are handled by a committee at Child Services and not through the family court, there isn't a case on the books. I did find cases where the family court has made rulings in cases where the adoptive parents are sued for custody by one or both of the biological parents of a child, but that isn't relevant in our case."

I've slipped into bed, and he's taken my hand.

"Did the attorney who you spoke to think that we stand a chance?" I ask.

"He felt that it would come down to how Child Services proceeds from here. He said that they'll be required to respond to our letter appealing their decision. However, if the girls are allowed to spend time with the other couple and form a bond with them, then the committee will probably rule in their favor because they'd be the last ones to have contact with the girls, and uprooting them a second time would be unlikely. If the committee rules that way, we could take them to court, but since there's no precedence, he didn't know if we could win the case, especially if it took a while to get a hearing date. The amount of time that they'd been with the other couple by that point would weigh in their favor."

"You aren't sounding very positive about this."

"I wrote a pretty good letter of appeal, if I do say so myself, so I'm hopeful that the committee won't make the mistake of letting the girls visit them in the first place. If you remind me in the morning, I'll give you a copy of the letter, and you can read it." He pauses. "How are you handling this mess?"

"I needed to do a final check on Ty ... something that I haven't done in awhile, and, tonight, I was even compelled to check in on Mattie. I guess that I'm coping by trying to hold on to the family that I already have as tightly as I can."

He releases my hand and slips his arm around my shoulders. "Well, I'm not going anywhere, so if it makes you feel any better, you can hold on to me as tightly as you want."

I'm against him in a moment, and his arms envelop me.

We let the room fall silent as he holds me until the safety and warmth of his embrace allows me to fall asleep.

**SATURDAY, MAY 5, 2007**

This week has been tough for the whole family to get through since we haven't had a visit from the girls to look forward to this weekend. However, when the mail arrives at 1100, the whole family's outlook changes when a letter arrives. Actually, it's more like a paragraph that lightens our mood:

After reviewing your letter of appeal, it is the determination of my office that your points are valid. However, in the interest of fairness to both sets of potential adoptive parents, the placement committee will be meeting on Wednesday, May 9, 2007 and they will review the case involving the Walker children. Since there are a lot of factors in determining placement, a decision may not be made on that day, but rest assured that you will be notified of the committee's decision when one has been rendered.

With hope that we'll soon have the girls back, the cloud of sadness that had surrounded us this morning lifts a little, and though the girls aren't back with us yet, we find ourselves feeling like we did through the week while waiting for the girls to visit on the weekend, more like a family, just not a complete one.

**WEDNESDAY, MAY 9, 2007**

**PLACEMENT COMMITTEE MEETING **

**1300**

Rosa Morales takes a seat in front of the five-member panel. It isn't the first time that she's appeared in front of one of these boards, but, this time, it feels strange since the Walker girls are no longer part of her caseload.

The panel is as evenly divided as it can be with an odd number of members, three men and two women. The woman who's seated in the middle must be presiding over the panel because she's the one who speaks after Mrs. Morales is seated.

"We know that you're very busy and that our call this morning asking you to come and speak with us when we reconvened after lunch gave you very short notice, so thank you for working this into your schedule."

"I'm always happy to do what I can to get a child placed in the right home, but since I was removed from the Walker case, I was surprised when you told me that it's the case that you wanted to discuss with me," Rosa says in response to the woman.

"After spending time this morning looking over the files, both the Rabbs and the Tates have presented strong cases for being chosen as parents for the Walker girls, so it's been difficult for us to reach a decision. The Rabbs are financially capable of caring for the girls, and they have good extended family support. However, this panel believes that several factors may make the Tates more suitable parents for these two girls. They've been married longer, have no other children, and Mrs. Tate works from home. Whether you mishandled the case or not, which isn't up to this panel to decide, it seems that you believe that the Rabbs are better candidates. What this panel would like to know before we deliberate to make a our final decision is what makes you feel that the Rabbs are the better choice."

"I don't know if I can prove my belief that the Rabbs are better suited to raising the Walker girls because that feeling is based on my observations and my years of experience. The girls responded to the Rabbs from the very beginning, and how the Rabbs handled their interactions with the girls and how the Tates did were completely different. I think that, if you look at the tapes from the visitors' room at the home on the days when each of the couples visited, you'll see what I mean, and, for the record, Mr. Tate is now telling a different story because, when he called me after his and Mrs. Tate's initial meeting with the girls, he told me that they wanted to adopt only the younger child. The Rabbs have never wanted to separate the girls, and that's another reason why my recommendation is that the Rabbs would make better parents for the Walker girls."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Morales. We'll consider you're input. Have a good day."

Mrs. Morales wasn't upset about being so abruptly dismissed, but she was upset that the committee seemed to be leaning towards the Tates. It would be a mistake to give those children to them, but, at this point, she was helpless in making the panel see it. She could only hope that the committee would take her suggestion and view the video from the visitors' room. What is it they say, 'a picture is worth a thousand words'?

After Mrs. Morales left the room, the panel members quickly agreed that they should reconvene the next afternoon to watch the videos before attempting to make a decision about the placement of the Walker girls.

**THURSDAY, MAY 10, 2007**

**DR. JUDY WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**1530**

**HARM'S POV**

We'd been so distracted by the unexpected problem in being allowed to adopt the girls that we'd almost forgotten about Mac's appointment. I guess that's why we keep calendars.

Mac is sitting on the examination table, and we're waiting for the doctor to come in.

My eyes start to scan the room, and it strikes me that this isn't the same room that we were in four weeks ago.

"Hey, Mac, isn't that an ultrasound machine to your right?"

"Yeah, I think it is."

"Do you think that we're in this room so that they can use it on you, today?"

"Use it on me? That doesn't sound like it would be a pleasant experience for either one of us ... but, to answer your question, I don't remember her saying anything at our last appointment about having an ultrasound today. However, if she mentioned it during or anywhere close to us hearing the heartbeat, I don't think that it would've registered if she had."

"You have a point. I wouldn't have heard her either," I reply with a grin.

A quick rap of warning precedes the door opening..

**MAC'S POV**

"Good afternoon, Sarah. How are you feeling?" asks.

"I'm feeling better than I have in a couple of months." I turn my head to look at Harm. "It's strange, given what's been going on in our lives, but I'm actually feeling better."

"Good to hear that. How are you doing, Harm?"

"If she's good, I'm good."

"Well, not that I don't believe you, Sarah, but I'd like to make sure. Last month, we did a complete check. I'm going to be less invasive today, and you'll even be able to leave with a souvenir," the doctor says, motioning at the ultrasound machine with her head as she looks over the numbers on Mac's chart.

Harm and I look at each other with big smiles. We're going to get to see our baby today.

"Your temperature and blood pressure are fine. You gained two pounds, so that's good. You seem to be doing well, so let's have a look at baby, shall we?" Harm and I nod eagerly. "I don't need for you to get completely undressed. You just need to undress enough to expose your tummy," the doctor explains.

I do as instructed, and then the doctor has me lie back, but the back section of the table is at an angle so I'm in more of a relaxed reclining position than lying flat or sitting up. When I'm settled into position, Harm takes my hand, and our clasped hands rest on the exam table between us.

The doctor has called someone else to come in to run the machine, saying that, when she's directing the wand, she finds it hard to concentrate on looking for abnormalities because she's too busy looking at the baby. After that statement, she quickly reassures us that she doesn't think that she'll see any problem. She just wants to make sure that she'll see it if there is one.

The young lady who's going to perform the ultrasound picks up something and moves the tube of whatever it is to a position above my belly. "This is going to ... " A cold blob of goop hits my stomach. " ... be cold."

I think that she should have said that as a complete sentence before she squeezed the tube if she really intended for it to be a warning.

"If you've never had an ultrasound before, it doesn't hurt," she says before she places the wand in the middle of the cold gel. "Can you both see the screen okay?" she asks before making the first move with the wand. "At sixteen weeks, things are still hard to make out because your baby is only about four inches long, but ... " The sight of the heart beating on the screen stops her wand, and she reaches over to turn up the sound. " ... seeing and hearing the heartbeat is usually pretty clear."

I have tears in my eyes and I look away from the screen to observe Harm's reaction to seeing our baby. Harm's eyes are glossy with moisture, too.

He lifts our clasped hands and kisses the back of mine, and, as he lowers our hands, he gives my hand a squeeze.

We exchange no words before turning our attention back to the monitor to see our baby as the woman begins to move the wand around once more.

**SAME TIME ... ACROSS TOWN**

While Harm and Mac are looking lovingly at each other and are in awe at the tiny mass on the monitor that's their baby, the placement committee reaches a decision in the matter of the Walker girls. Before the end of the day, a letter will be drafted and mailed, and the case workers will be notified of the decision.

**DR. JUDY WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**EXAM ROOM 3**

**MAC'S POV**

"Everything looks good," Dr. Wallace states to get the Rabbs' attention off the screen and looking at her for a moment before she continues. "You're doing wonderfully, Sarah, but I want to continue to see you at four week intervals for now, so remember to stop to make your appointment for next month on your way out. Sue is going to make sure that you get a picture of your baby to take home with you, and then you'll be through for today. Take care, and I'll see you in four weeks."

"Thank you," Mac says before turning her head back to the monitor to look at her baby again before Sue shuts off the machine.

Dr. Wallace left the exam room, nodding her head at Sue. They'd had this happen before. Sue would have to remind Mrs. Rabb to make her appointment because she hadn't heard anything after "everything looks good," and she'd never been able to get Mr. Rabb's attention off the monitor, so she couldn't be sure that he'd heard her either.

Sue reaches over and turns off the sound. The nurse who'd observed Sue perform her first ultrasound had told her that, if she turned off the sound before turning off the screen, it would be easier on the parents. Her training nurse had told her that cutting off the machine and losing both the sight and sound of their baby would equate to her being told that her favorite food was calorie free and that she could eat as much as she wanted, and then, after taking one bite, someone took the food away without warning. She'd been turning the sound off first ever since, but hadn't quite understood the point until a few years later when she'd been pregnant, and the nurse performing her ultrasound had turned off the machine. The screen had gone black and the sound had stopped at all at once, and a moment of fear had run through her until her mind had been able to revive her common sense to assure her that the baby wasn't gone, but that the machine had simply been turned off.

Sue freezes the picture of the baby on the monitor before removing the wand from Mac's stomach. She then uses a tissue to wipe up some of the now warm gel.

Sue stands in front of the screen and switches off the machine before turning around to speak to Harm and Mac. "I'll have your picture waiting for you at the appointment desk." That would make sure that they remembered to make next month's appointment.

Sue takes a step to the side and picks up a box of tissues. "There are more tissues here in case you need them to remove any more gel so you don't get it on your clothes. Take as long as you need, but please leave the door open when you leave. I'll see you up front when you're ready."

As Sue opens the door, Harm releases my hand, and I watch as he carefully places his hand on my belly where, moments ago, the wand had showed our baby growing inside.

"I love you," he says softly after thirty-two seconds of silence with his hand resting on my stomach.

"Are you talking to me or the baby?"

"To both of my girls," he replies, moving to place a soft kiss on my lips, his hand still covering our baby.

Our lips part, and I place my hand over his and say with a sigh, "Let's go home, Daddy."

It takes us another five minutes for me to wipe the rest of the goop from my stomach, make sure that my uniform is on properly and set my next appointment, but we leave the office with the first picture of our baby in hand.

**RABB SUV**

**A LITTLE BIT LATER **

**HARM'S POV**

I find Mac distracting as I drive towards our home.

She's been sitting in the passenger seat, clutching the sides of the small ultrasound picture of our baby and staring at it for a while now without saying a word.

I'm debating if I want to break her concentration when she finally speaks.

"Harm?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really going to have a baby," she says as if she's just realized it.

I reach for her hand, but they're both still clutching the sides of the picture, so I grasp her forearm. "Yes, we are," I say with a big smile.

She returns my smile before looking back at the picture that she's holding with a serene look on her face.


	16. Chapter 16

**PART SIX **

**FRIDAY, MAY 11, 2007**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**0949**

**HARM'S POV**

I walk into my department with Agent Walters on my heels because he's seeking legal advice on a current case, but first I make a stop at PO Burns' desk.

"PO Burns, I'll be in a meeting with Agent Walters for a while."

"Yes, sir. I'll see that you aren't disturbed."

I turn towards my office with Agent Walters following close behind, but the petty officer speaks again.

"Captain Rabb, I do have a message for you. The woman said that it was important, though she didn't say that it was urgent, so I guess it can wait."

"What was the message and who left it?"

"She just said that you should return her call as soon as possible because she had important news." Seemingly unwilling to break eye contact with me, but unable to remember the woman's name, she looked down and picked up the written message. "Her name is ... " After taking note of the name, she held out the pink message paper to me. " ... Mrs. Morales."

"Walters, I need to return this call. I shouldn't be but a couple of minutes," I say as I shift the reports in my right hand to my left to take the offered paper from the petty officer. It'll save time by not having to look up her number. "PO Burns, will you get Agent Walters a cup of coffee or something until I'm off the phone and then send him in?"

"Yes, sir."

My heart is pounding and my hand is shaking as I put the key in the lock of my office door.

I enter my office and quickly shut the door.

Crossing to my desk, I drop the report that's in my left hand on the corner of it while clutching the message form in my right as I round it to reach for my phone.

Placing the pink note paper on the desk near the phone, I start to dial the number.

My heart is racing, and I realize that it might be best if I sit down.

I've just sat down when Mrs. Morales answers.

"Hello, this is Rosa Morales. How may I help you?"

"Mrs. Morales, this is Harm ... Harmon Rabb. I'm returning your call."

"I'm so glad to hear from one of you. I tried to reach your wife, too, but she was also in a meeting. I have news that I thought that you might not want to wait to hear until the letter arrives."

"The placement committee has reached a decision?" I ask nervously.

"Yes, they have ... and because the committee agreed with me about placement, I'm back on the case ... unofficially. Well, because of that and the fact that Mr. Smith doesn't mind doing the paperwork while I attend to the girls since his run in with Sami. It seems that, on Tuesday, when Mr. Smith took the girls to meet with the other couple, Sami kicked him in the shin to make him let go of her hand so that she could run out of the room."

I smile at the visual of Sami kicking Mr. Smith. The Sunday when he came into our home and took the girls away, I wanted to do a lot more than kick him .. and I would have if I'd thought that it would've done any good.

"Once you receive the notification letter, which you'll probably get tomorrow, Monday at the latest since it was mailed late yesterday, we'll be able to obtain a temporary custody order that will place the girls in your home full-time as we move through the remaining steps and waiting period to the final adoption decree. However, I thought that, with this being Mother's Day weekend, your wife, in particular, might like a visit from the girls to celebrate."

It isn't until the last of Mrs. Morales' words sink in that I realize that she's calling to tell me that we won our case.

"I'd ... I mean, we'd love to see the girls this weekend."

My heart rate has slowed only slightly as my emotions have changed from panic to glee. "Would it be possible to see them any sooner? I can be there in an hour, hour and a half tops."

Mrs. Morales laughs. "I can't get anything set up that quickly, but I can probably have things arranged so that I can bring them to your house tomorrow afternoon if you can return them to the home on Sunday evening so that Abigail can attend school on Monday."

During the rest of our call, we talk about what Mac and I need to do to get ready to take temporary custody of the girls, for one thing, securing daycare for Sami. The other item to which I get Mrs. Morales to agree is to tell Mac that we won if she calls her back before I reach her, but to keep the fact that the girls are coming over this weekend a secret from Mac so that we can surprise her as part of her Mother's Day celebration.

After my talk with Mrs. Morales comes to an end, I figure that I should take care of business first.

I'll call Mac after I give advice to Agent Walters, and then she and I can decide which one of us will start to make calls to find daycare for Sami.

**SATURDAY, MAY 12, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**KITCHEN**

**0945**

Though the baby wasn't big enough to make out details during the ultrasound, seeing the tiny mass with a beating heart has eased some of my worries about Mac, the baby's health and becoming a father in general.

Seeing the baby must have made Mac feel more secure that it's going to make it into the world, too, because, though she told her friend Peggy that she was pregnant after last month's appointment, she didn't seem to be 'into it' the way that she's been since Thursday's visit to the doctor.

Thursday night, Mac proudly showed off the ultrasound picture to Mattie and Ty. Mattie asked questions and was excited by the fact that she was looking at a picture of the baby that was growing inside Mac. Ty responded with an enthusiastic, "That's really my baby brother or sister? Cool!"

This morning, before Peggy arrived to take her shopping, Mac called Harriet Roberts to tell her the news. Mac let me listen in on the call, but I wouldn't have had any trouble hearing Harriet's initial reaction. I think the whole country could hear Harriet squeal, "A baby, I'm so happy for you" before she calmed down and asked the normal questions like how she was feeling and when she was due before they ended the call.

With Harriet spreading the word on the east coast and Coates taking the west coast, I don't feel like I have anyone to tell. I'd call Bud, but there's no point. As soon as Harriet and Mac got off the phone, Harriet would've tracked down Bud to tell him, whether he was in the house or across town.

Mac and I told my parents together, so I'm feeling a little cheated that I don't have anyone to tell. I don't count Director Landon at the office, who I told so it would be easier for me to get a few personal hours off to go to doctor appointments with Mac. I want someone to brag to, someone who's going to congratulate me. When Mac told Coates, I was right there, but Jennifer offered Mac her congratulations and well wishes and forgot me. She didn't get pregnant by herself. Perhaps if I tell Mac how I feel, she'll let me show my parents the ultrasound photo tomorrow when I take everyone out to dinner for Mother's Day.

With Peggy and Mac having left a few minutes ago for a Mother's Day outing, complete with shopping and lunch, and Mattie about to leave for the gallery, I call Ty in and tell them about Mac's surprise visitors that will be here when she returns.

With Mattie on her way to work, Ty and I need to get our usual Saturday things done like grocery shopping and picking up Mac's and my uniforms from the dry cleaners that Mac usually does, but asked me to do this week so that she could go out with Peggy, which I felt that I had to agree to do because I didn't think that I could say no to her without tipping her off that something was going on.

I'm working on finishing my second cup of coffee before going to retrieve my car keys to leave the house to start on the errands when it hits me that I do have someone to call about the baby.

I reach for the handset of the cordless phone on the wall.

I dial carefully and, when the soft voice on the other end of the line answers, I smile and say, "Hi, Grandma."

"Hello, Harm, it's so nice to hear from you. Are you calling to reschedule the Easter visit that you had to cancel?"

"No, not to reschedule, but give you the rest of the story of why we couldn't make it over the Easter weekend."

"You told me that you were trying to adopt two little girls and that they wouldn't be able to make the trip with you, so you wanted to come another time when I could meet them. What else do you need to tell me about that?"

"Nothing about that, though yesterday we did receive word that we are going to be able to adopt the girls. We hope to have them move in soon, but that isn't the reason why I'm calling. I called to tell that we probably won't be coming to see you for a while because I figure that it'll take a couple of months to settle in the girls and, by then, Mac will be about six months along, so I don't think that we'll be taking trips that are too far from home until after the baby's born."

"Mac's pregnant?

"Yup!" I say proudly.

"Congratulations, Harm. I'm so happy for both of you."

We spend about five more minutes on the phone while my grandma asks me the usual questions of how Mac's feeling and when she's due before we end our call.

I've hung up the handset and I'm taking the last swallow of my second cup of coffee when I hear Ty say from the doorway, "Dad, I'm ready to go."

"I'm ready to go, too," I say as I place my coffee mug in the sink, but before I can move away from the counter, the phone rings.

I reach for the handset. "In case it's Momma, I'm going to answer this, and then we'll go," I say to Ty as I press the talk button.

The voice on the other end is all too familiar. It's Keeter. The reason for his call is to find out if I'm interested in selling my loft to him. Apparently, the relationship between he and Linda is going very well. Linda doesn't want to get married because she has one failed marriage to her credit already. However, they want to live together, and my loft seems to be the location of choice for them. I told him that I'd have to talk it over with Mac, but with us adding three more children to the family in the coming weeks and months, the money would come in handy. Of course, this led to the discussion of three. "Where do you get three in weeks?" he asks. So I filled him in on the girls and the baby. His response was, "Just what the world needs, another Rabb," but after his teasing and subsequent chuckle he said, "I'm happy for you, Harm.

I'm feeling like I'm ten feet tall after I've ended my ten minute phone conversation with Keeter.

As Ty and I leave the house, I'm not feeling cheated anymore now that I've been able to tell two people today about the baby.

**1250**

The doorbell rings, and I make my way to the door with Ty right behind me.

I open the door, and a bullet known as Sami hits my legs. "I missed you."

My reaction is automatic. I scoop her up into a hug, "And I missed you."

"Hi, Abigail." I hear Ty say as Sami and I share a hug.

I put Sami down and squat down to address Abigail. "Hello, Abigail."

She waves in response. Though I can hear Ty and Sami talking next to me, I focus my attention on Abigail.

"I want you to know that I missed you, too," I say to her.

I get a bashful smile from Abigail in response. I think that I'm growing on her ... at least she didn't hide behind Mrs. Morales when I spoke to her. I return to my upright position and step to the side.

"Let's get everyone inside, and Ty can tell you what he has planned for us to do this afternoon."

"Follow me," Ty says, and Sami is right behind him.

Abigail steps inside, but stops and looks up at me, "Harm, where is Mac?" she asks.

What a simple question, but the fact that she spoke to me without me speaking to her first is another ray of hope that she'll be happy to have me as her dad at some point.

"She's out shopping. She'll be back in a while. She said that she'd be here for dinner," I answer.

We all reach the living room, and Ty starts to tell everyone his plan. "I like this movie, but if you don't, I can pick another one, or you could pick one of mine," he says, handing Abigail the DVD box so that she can see the title of the movie that he's picked.

"Tyler, I like this one," Abigail says in reply to Ty.

"Okay, then we'll watch 'Finding Nemo' ... and you can call me Ty, too, if you want."

Once the movie is in, I ask Mrs. Morales to join me in the kitchen while I make popcorn for movie time. She and I need some time away from the children to talk about the plan that we've come up with for Sami's care so that the girls can move in soon.

As the microwave popcorn pops, Mrs. Morales and I discuss what the employment agency for nanny services told us about our options and that we could have a temporary nanny in our home by Wednesday if we call to confirm on Monday morning. However, if we want to interview candidates for a permanent nanny position, then it will take as long as it takes for us to interview and decide on one. My question for her is whether or not it would be acceptable to her department for Frank to watch Sami while Mac and I do interviews, because we'd prefer to have the same person care for the children each day, and that isn't a guarantee under the first option. However, because we want to move forward as quickly as possible after the delays that we've encountered, we want the girls to move in with us as soon as possible.

After our talk, we deliver the popcorn to three children who are intently watching the TV screen, and Mrs. Morales says goodbye to the girls after reminding them that I have to take them back to the home tomorrow, but that they'll soon be living here and they won't have to go back to the home anymore.

**1445 **

Sami fell asleep about halfway through the movie. I'd forgotten that children her age, sometimes up to the age of four or five, usually nap in the afternoon.

After the movie, I ask Ty and Abigail if they'd like a cold drink since they've been eating popcorn.

After I've set them up on the patio with a glass of lemonade and cautioned them not to go near the pool, the phone rings, waking Sami.

"Hey."

I smile because it's Mac. "Hey, yourself. How's the shopping going?"

"It was fun, but I'm feeling a little worn out, so we're headed back to the house now."

"I hope that you aren't too tired to enjoy your surprise."

"What surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it? I'll see you when you get home. How long do you think that'll be?"

"Traffic seems to be pretty light, so about fifteen minutes."

"I'll be watching for you so that I can bring in your shopping bags. See you soon, honey. Bye."

"Bye." Mac sounds puzzled.

I had to get off the phone quickly so that I could see if Ty and Abigail were finished with their drink, get their glasses washed up and explain to the girls that we want to surprise Mac, so we need for them to hide.

**NINETEEN MINUTES LATER **

The den is close to the living room, so Ty and the girls are hiding in there.

A check of my watch tells me that I'd better get to my post at the door to watch for Peggy's car.

The sight of Peggy's sedan has me excited. Mac is going to be so happy to see the girls. I just hope that she isn't too tired to enjoy their visit.

I know that I have a 'cat that swallowed the canary' smile on my face as I make my way to Peggy's car.

Mac has already opened her door by the time I arrive, but I'm there in time to extend my hand to help her out of the car.

A few minutes later, Mac has said her goodbyes to Peggy, I'm loaded down with three shopping bags and we're making our way to our front door.

"Did you have a good time?" I ask.

"Yes, I did. I may be feeling tired, but I'm feeling pretty good. Peggy showed me the Pooh theme that she's using to decorate their nursery. I looked around, but I didn't want to buy anything. I want us to pick out our baby's things together. I hope that it doesn't sound petty, but I know that I don't want Pooh since Peggy's using it. I did buy something else that's kind of for the baby though ... I bought a couple of maternity outfits today."

"Are you going to model them for me later?"

"I might ... if you tell me what my surprise is."

"Not yet. If you bought only a couple of maternity outfits and nothing for the baby, what else am I carrying in these bags?"

"Okay, you caught me. I bought more than a couple of maternity things ... " She smiles sweetly. " ... and, since we know that we're getting the girls, I bought a few clothes for them. I just hope that they can still wear them by the time we get to see them again."

We reach the front door, and I know that I couldn't have been given a better set up for her surprise without giving it away. I reach for the doorknob.

"Well, I have news about that. I talked to Mrs. Morales today about Sami's care and that we'd like to let Frank keep Sami until we've been able to hire a nanny. She said that it should be fine, but she'd run it past her supervisor and, if everything worked out, the girls could be living here by next weekend."

"Is that my surprise?" Mac asks as we enter the house.

"That's some of it, but the larger part is the fact that, if you want to see if those clothes fit the girls, we should head to the den with your bags."

"You mean they're here now?" she practically screeches.

"An early Mother's Day surprise ... " That's all I get out before she's grabbing the sides of my face and planting a kiss on my lips before heading off to the den at lightening speed. I guess that she isn't so tired anymore.

She reaches the den with me on her six and pushes open the door.

It's Ty who speaks first. "Look, Momma! They're here, and Abigail talked to me. Are you surprised?"

Mac smiles at the three faces smiling at her from the couch. "I'm surprised and very happy to see you. I've missed you very much."

Mac hugs Abigail, Sami and then Ty before she sits with them on the couch.

I stand in the doorway watching them.

I don't know if it's pride or joy, but the sight of the four of them sitting together fills my heart with something of that nature.


	17. Chapter 17

**PART SEVEN  
**

**SUNDAY, MAY 13, 2007**

**MOTHER'S DAY**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**HARM'S POV**

If I thought that Mac with our three young children was a wonderful sight last night, it pales in comparison to the glow that Mac has this morning as I watch her enjoy the breakfast that she's just been served in bed by our four children.

Ty is quick to point out that Mattie helped them cook so that I could sleep in, too, though it isn't Father's Day.

So, here we are, Mom and Dad in bed with Mattie sitting at the foot of the bed, Sami having taken up residence between us, Abigail on the other side of Mac, and Ty on my side. I guess it's a good thing that we bought a king-sized bed!

After Mac has finished her breakfast, Mattie takes her tray so the children can go get their gifts for Mac.

When they all return a few minutes later, Mac is beaming as she takes the offered gifts one at a time.

Ty has a card that he made at school for Mac and, thanks to Mattie, the girls have a framed photo of Mac with the two of them at Easter to give her. Mattie has a box of chocolates and a store-bought card with a 'contract' inside saying that she'll take over the laundry duties until she leaves for college or for the remainder of Mac's pregnancy if she ends up staying here to attend UCSD.

After each gift, Mac thanks the child who gave it, gives them a kiss on the cheek and a hug before moving to the next gift.

After announcing that, since it's Mother's Day and Mac gets to decide what we do all day, the children leave our room to allow us to get dressed.

With Mac in the bathroom changing, I change while thinking of how this day will be bittersweet for Mac. Our family is all together at the moment, but before we meet my parents for dinner at 1800, we'll have to take the girls back to the home.

To help combat her sadness this evening, I've held my gifts for her until tonight when we go to bed.

Mac emerges from the bathroom completely dressed in one of the outfits that she showed me that she bought yesterday - a pale yellow sun dress with little white flowers on it. I don't know what it is, the color of her dress reflecting on her skin, the soft morning light lighting her face in a special way or the glow of pregnancy, but she looks more beautiful than ever.

I start to make my way to her as I speak, "I've never seen you look more beautiful."

She blushes. "Thank you, but I don't feel beautiful. I'm at an awkward stage."

I give her the 'what' look as I slip my arms around her.

"I don't really think that I'm big enough to be in maternity clothes, but my regular clothes are getting so tight that maternity clothes are more comfortable," she explains.

"Well, we wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable or to have my baby getting squished in something that's too tight," I say with a cheeky grin.

I get a shy smile in response before I put my lips to hers in a kiss that begins innocently enough, but when she deepens the kiss, I gladly oblige.

If not for our waiting children and the knock of our impatient son asking if we're ready yet, I'm sure that we'd end up back in bed.

A few minutes later, we're out of the house and on our way to Balboa Park.

Mac has chosen to walk in the park and through the botanical garden before going to the Reuben H. Fleet Space Center where the IMAX Dome theater is showing a movie on space exploration.

**BALBOA PARK **

**MID-DAY**

The movie was a hit with everyone, but now it's time for lunch.

As we head back to where the SUV is parked, Mac looks at me and asks, "I get to pick where we have lunch, too, right?"

I look around at the smiling faces, seeking verification before replying, "Yes, you do."

"Well, I'm in the mood for some French fries, so why don't we go to MacDonald's?" she suggests.

With all eyes on me, I respond, "I don't suppose it would do any good to lobby for a different place, would it?"

All the children are shaking their heads in a negative manner as Mac answers, "Your protest to our selection is duly noted, but you're out voted."

We reach the car and, once we're all secured inside, we're on our way to the golden arches for lunch.

**SEA PORT VILLAGE **

**MID-AFTERNOON**

After lunch, we drove to Sea Port Village, which is a complex of shops along the water where there are often street performers practicing their trade.

Sami has fallen asleep on my shoulder - we really need to get used to the idea that she still requires an afternoon nap.

We've done a little bit of everything, from watching the sailboats in the harbor and bigger boats out farther with the use of coin operated telescopes to looking through a few of the shops, and now we're watching a magician perform in the square while we eat the ice cream that Mac just said that she had a craving for, though I think that an ice cream stop was in her plan all along because she didn't get a milkshake with lunch.

I look at Mac, and she knows that, after ice cream, we need to head back to the car and start our journey back up the coast to the group home to deliver Abigail and Sami by 1700 when they're due back.

It's something that neither one of us wants to do, but we've got a plan and, along with some luck, we hope that next weekend they won't have to return to that place.

**CORONADO BEACH **

**AFTER ****DINING OUT FOR DINNER**

With the light staying with us longer each day at this time of year, Mac suggested a stroll on the beach after dinner.

Mattie is a swimmer, but doesn't care for salt water and sand, so Mom and Frank said that they'd drive her home if we wanted to go to the beach.

My mother would've agreed to just about anything after seeing the ultrasound picture of her grandchild. Ecstatic would be the closest word to describe how happy she was at seeing the image.

At the beach, the three of us took off our shoes and left them in the car. Ty and I rolled up our pant legs a couple of turns to avoid having wet pant cuffs. Knowing that Ty would find his way farther into the water than Mac and I would, she rolled up Ty's pant legs another couple of turns before we ventured off towards the water.

Mac and I are walking hand-in-hand at a slow pace while Ty runs along the water's edge out in front of us. We can still see him, but there's more space between us than when we first started walking on the beach.

I find that it's by Mac's design that the gap has grown when she speaks for the first time since we started to walk along the shore.

"Harm, I have a funny feeling that the fight for the girls isn't over yet."

"I know that it might seem that way because they couldn't stay this time, but they'll be moving in soon, and it won't be long before the struggle to get them will be a distant memory."

"I'm sorry, Harm."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, so why are you apologizing?"

"I know that this isn't what you had in mind when you thought of having a wife and family. I'm sorry for that."

I stop and turn to face her, but she doesn't turn to face me, so I'm staring at the side of her face. I lift my free hand to cup her cheek. Once she makes eye contact with me, I let my hand fall away.

"You don't need to be sorry for giving me a family I love. As far as what I pictured ... I pictured having a child with you." I place my hand over her lower abdomen where I know that our baby is growing. "I have that and I have you ... " I kiss the end of her nose. " ... and a son ... " I place another kiss on her, but this time it's on her cheek. " ... and three daughters," I chuckle. "I guess, along with the loft, I'd better sell my 'Vette. It isn't exactly a practical car for a father of five." My laugh fades as the vision of me behind the wheel of a minivan passes through my mind.

"I'll drive the minivan. You can drive the SUV," Mac says with laugh.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" I ask curiously.

"The look on your face said it all. You were picturing yourself driving a minivan instead of your cool man car. I don't want you to sell your car and your loft in the same week. So, let's talk about selling it later. I mean, since it's paid for, maybe we can keep it. In the meantime ... " She tilts her head in Ty's direction. " ... I think that you'd better round up our son. We need to get him home and into a bathtub. He has school tomorrow."

"Ty, are you ready to go home or do I need to chase you down?" I say before applying a quick kiss to Mac's lips while waiting for his response.

"You can't catch me," Ty shouts back.

"Can, too," I counter.

"No you can't," he yells back, already starting to dash farther down the beach.

"If you'll excuse me ... " I say to Mac.

As I take off, I feel her slap my six and hear her yell, "Go get him, Sailor!"

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME **

**MAC'S POV**

After I'd finished the ritual of being the last one out of Ty's room, I head to our bedroom.

What Harm hadn't seen at the beach was me smoothing my sundress down until my hand was over the small baby bump. Though not clearly visible to others, I noticed it when I caught sight of my profile in the mirror recently.

On the beach earlier, my life was perfect, but nothing stays perfect. I can feel it in my bones ... something's going to happen. I just have to pray that it isn't anything that we can't get through.

I open the door to see Harm sitting up in bed against pillows. He's got the covers up to his waist, and the sight of his bare chest makes me tingle.

The big grin on his face says that he's got something up his sleeve, but it isn't his sexy 'let's make love smile'.

It would be nice if it were, though it isn't his fault that he isn't thinking like that these days. Our sex life has been hit and miss for months. At first, it was the fact that we were on a schedule because of the IVF treatments, and then I got pregnant, but it was hard to break the habit of stopping after a particularly passionate kiss to consider if it was a 'free day' and, in that moment of hesitation, sometimes the mood would be broken. Then came the months where the dark circles under my eyes and my yawning didn't make for setting the mood. Now, I'm feeling much better, but I'm sure that the vision of me being tired all the time is still fresh in his mind - not a very sexy image.

Unfortunately, the image problem doesn't go both ways. I'm looking at one hot man.

I can't help my lustful thoughts, but I want to know what he's up to.

"You look like you're plotting something," I say as I slip off my shoes.

"I'm just waiting for you to get into bed so I can give you your Mother's Day gift," he explains.

"Why do you have a gift for me? I'm not your mother," I say teasingly.

"I asked Mattie and Tyler if my idea for a gift was a good one before I made the decision to do it. So, though they don't know that I actually did it, in a way, it's a gift from your children. I just have a bigger budget."

"Where is it?"

"Oh, no you don't. No hints, no peeking. You can have it when you get into bed."

"I can? You promise?" I say suggestively, letting my lustful thoughts be conveyed through the tone of my voice. If he's paying attention, I'm sure that he can see it in my facial expression and in my eyes, too.

"You want that or do you want your gifts?"

"Do I have to pick? Can't I have both?" I purr before lifting my sundress over my head.

"Maybe," he says as he looks at me in my bra and panties.

Now he has a hint of desire in his eyes. Trying not to lose the moment, I decide not to change into anything else and get into bed in my bra and panties.

I'm slipping into bed next to him as he turns to get something out of his night table.

When he returns to his sitting position, I'm there eagerly waiting for my surprise.

I see an envelope and a box in his hand. He hands me the envelope.

I find that the flap hasn't been sealed. Instead, the flap is tucked into the envelope, so I lift the flap and remove the card inside.

"I know that you said that doing laundry and such made you feel like you were taking care of your family, but with the girls becoming part of our family and the baby coming, too, I thought that your time might be better spent with the children than doing chores around the house, so I contracted for someone to come in once a week for the rest of the year to clean the bathrooms, vacuum, dust, and do whatever else you two agree on the first day. With Mattie taking over the laundry for a while, too, and all the children in charge of picking up after themselves, you should be able to take it easy around here, and we can enjoy the time that we have at home doing things with the children without the house looking like a tornado hit it." I tap my finger on the card in her hand and say, "You need to call the number at the bottom to set up the first visit."

"Harm, this is wonderful, but are you sure that we can afford it?"

"Yes, I'm sure ... but even if it meant tightening our belt around here, I'd still have done it. You need to spend as much time as you can with the girls right now, and you'll need the help until after you're back on your feet after the baby's born. Then you can decide if you still need someone to help you with the housework after you're home full-time."

I move to give him a kiss, and it gets intense as his free hand pulls me closer and parts of my bare skin touch his bare chest. I pull back, the box ... what could be in the box?

I don't want to appear unappreciative for the thoughtful gift that he's already given me, but I want to know what else he has for me, so I take a moment to place my first gift on my night table before I ask, "Harm, what's in the box?"

"I guess you'll have to open it to find out," he says as he offers the box to me.

Once I've got the box firmly in hand, I lift the lid. Its gold contents shine, and I wonder if I can be seeing what I think I'm seeing.

"I've decided it's time. I'll be current until August, so I don't promise not to indulge in a few more hours of flight time before then if I get the chance, but after August, my mach-speed days are over."

"Why now?"

"I knew that I was ready the moment that I heard her heartbeat. You aren't my mother, but you're going to be the mother of my child. The thought that I'd be leaving you and the family that we've created to fly jets just isn't worth the risk to me anymore. Being here with you and our children means more to me."

I didn't feel the sting of them forming, but I feel the moist droplets fall on my arm as tears fall from my eyes - tears of joy.

I take one last look at the gold wings before placing the open box on top of my first gift. I want to be able to see them in the morning so that I'll know that I wasn't dreaming. He loves me, us, his family more than flying.

With the box positioned just right, I roll over to him and whisper "I love you" against his lips before my lips cover his.

The first kiss that I gave him was nothing compared to the one that I administer this time.

Tonight is definitely going to be a hit and not a miss.


	18. Chapter 18

**PART EIGHT **

**FRIDAY, MAY 18, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1700**

**HARM'S POV**

It's another Friday evening, but this is the best Friday evening that we've had in a while because the temporary custody order was issued late yesterday afternoon. So, when the girls arrive this evening for what was to be a visitation weekend, they'll have all of their clothing and whatever belongings they own because they won't have to return to the home.

The sound of the doorbell means that they're here.

We invite Mrs. Morales in so that we can give her a copy of the resume for her approval of the nanny who we'd like to hire. In turn, she has a copy of the custody order for us and reminds us that we have to have Abigail registered in school no later than Tuesday.

As Mrs. Morales prepares to leave so that we can have dinner before we get our girls' bags unpacked, she tells us that, if we have any problems with enrolling Abigail, we're to call her immediately. Before she walks out the door, she adds, "If you have any problems at all, don't hesitate to call."

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**AFTER DINNER**

Before we came in here, Mac and I had a brief exchange in the kitchen on how we wanted to accomplish the unpacking.

Since Abigail is the more sensitive child, Mac suggested that we unpack her things first.

I place the black bag serving as Abigail's luggage on her bed. Mac begins to pull items out of the bag with care. The first items are all clothing, and Mac begins to make stacks of tops, shorts, pants and dresses.

Sami is sitting on her bed, watching as I place her black bag on her bed, but I get distracted when Mac says, "Abigail, who are these people in the picture?"

I move over to see the picture that Mac has pulled from the bag. It's a picture of a man and woman.

Abigail looks horrified, and her answer comes out in a voice that's shaky and just above a whisper. "It's a picture of my real parents."

Mac and I figured as much, but wanted conformation. "Do you remember them?" Mac asks.

"I remember my father ... a little, but not much about my mother."

"I think we should put this picture somewhere so that you'll see it everyday. That way you'll know that your parents are with you and watching over you from heaven even though they aren't here to take care of you."

The fear that we saw in Abigail's face fades as Mac moves to put the picture on top of her dresser.

"Would here be a good place?" Mac asks.

"You aren't going to take it away?" Abigail asks.

"No, sweetheart, they're your parents, and if it weren't for them having you, we wouldn't have you, so I'm very grateful to them for that."

Abigail puts her hand out and touches Mac's arm. "Thank you."

Mac puts her hand over Abigail's and says. "Now, let's get the rest of your things sorted and put away so we can do the same for Sami."

"All done!" Sami says from behind us.

We turn around to see that Sami has unpacked her clothes and put them in stacks. They aren't folded neatly the way Mac has been doing Abigail's, so there are small piles of unfolded clothes on Sami's bed. She's standing there proudly displaying her work, the bunny that she got from Frank at Easter tucked under her arm, which she also got out of her bag.

Sami is so proud of herself and too cute for us to do anything except smile and try to keep from laughing - life with a two and a half year old is going to be fun.

The picture in Abigail's bag and the teddy bear that Frank gave her at Easter turn out to be the only personal items that she has, and Sami has only her bunny. All the other items in the bag are clothing.

It doesn't take long to unpack and put away the girls' clothing, even with having to re-fold Sami's things, so there's plenty of time for a movie and ice cream before bath and bed time.

**RABB HOME**

**2200**

**MAC'S POV**

With the exhausting workweek, interviewing for a nanny as well as answering Ty's questions about his changing world, we're exhausted. So after we've tucked all the younger children into their beds, Harm and I go to our room to get ready to turn in.

We've done a little reading and have enjoyed just relaxing in bed together as we read, but I think that the week of getting ready for the girls has caught up with me because I'm feeling tired.

After my second yawn, I check my internal clock: 2200 - that isn't calling the day quits too early.

I place my bookmark in my book before setting it on my night table.

"I'm going to check on the children again before I get some sleep," I say before pulling the covers back to get out of bed.

"Okay. I have only a couple of pages left of this chapter, so when I get those read, I'll call it a night, too," Harm replies.

"Okay," I say as I slip on my robe.

I go to Ty's room first.

I look into his room and see that some of his blonde locks are covering his face. I guess that his dad will have to take him to get a haircut next Saturday. I can't resist and enter his room. He's a sound sleeper and doesn't stir as my fingers brush the strands of hair off his face.

My next stop is to check on our girls.

I look in their room, but I see only one sleeping little girl. I walk into the room to get a better look.

There's no second person in the bed with Sami who's sleeping all tucked in under her ladybug blanket like we left her.

I move closer to Abigail's bed. She definitely isn't there. I look in the closet. I look under the beds, but the only thing under either one of them is the push lights that Harm put there.

I came from Ty's room, so I know that she wasn't there. I look in the bathroom, nothing.

I go to Mattie's room to see if she's gone in there, again nothing.

Mattie asks if I want her to help look. "I don't think that'll be necessary," I reply. What I'm thinking is: 'She's only a little girl. It isn't like she's going to jump in the car and drive off.'

I check the two remaining bedrooms before I get a sick feeling. We've had them for all of five hours and twelve minutes, and I've managed to lose one of them.

I race into our bedroom. "Harm, Abigail is missing. I've checked the bathroom and the other bedrooms. I asked Mattie if she'd seen her. She's gone."

Harm is up and putting an arm through the sleeve of his robe in less than a heartbeat. He's more than halfway to the girls' room before he gets his robe tied.

He walks in and scans the room before turning around. "She didn't go too far. She didn't take her bear or the picture of her parents. You said that you checked the other bedrooms?"

"Yes, and the bathroom. She isn't there."

"Well, she has to be around here somewhere. Why don't you go check the kitchen? Maybe she wanted a snack. I'll check the living room. Maybe she wanted to watch TV."

We go down the hall together until our destinations call for us to part.

**DEN**

**SAME TIME**

**ABIGAIL'S POV**

I don't know how long I've been sitting here in the corner of the room staring at it. I first saw it last week when we hid in here waiting to surprise Mac.

Harm and Mac are the nicest people that we've ever gotten to live with, but this isn't the first time that we've lived with someone, so I don't want to get too comfortable.

I've been looking at it for so long, but I want to touch it. I let only my fingertips touch the large section of the glossy wood beside the strings. The surface is so cool and smooth.

I pull my hand back. I know that it doesn't belong to me. I shouldn't touch it, but I find myself reaching out to touch it again.

After a few moments, I want to hear the sound that it makes, and I reach out and let my fingertip pluck one of the strings.

**MOMENTS LATER**

**HARM'S POV**

I hear a sound. I start to think that I must have imagined it when I hear it again. I make my way towards the den and see that the door is closed the way we usually leave it, but there's a little bit of light coming from under the door. Neither Mac nor I have been in there today, so who turned on a desk lamp?

I gently turn the knob, not wanting to alert the occupant of my presence just yet.

I open the door and watch as Abigail gently picks at one of the strings of my guitar that's on a stand in the corner of the room.

I leave the door open so that Mac will know that we're in here when she comes looking for me after she finishes checking her location.

"What are you doing in here?" I ask softly. Even though I asked in a soft voice, I can see the fear in her eyes when she turns towards my voice. I've startled her. "I didn't mean to scare you, but Mac and I have been looking all over the house for you."

She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. "I know that I shouldn't touch things that don't belong to me. Please don't hit me."

She starts to cry, and I can see her shoulders start to shake. "I'll never touch it again. I promise. Please don't hurt me," she says before she drops her head onto her knees.

I hear Mac behind me take a gasping breath.

I know exactly how she feels. I'm angry at whoever could strike any child that would make her afraid like this and I'm upset that I can't just tell her that it's okay and make her believe me.

I turn and motion for Mac to stay put. I've got to learn how to deal with this, but I also realize that Mac needs to be close in case I can't.

I drop down on my knees and put my hand out to touch Abigail's shoulder for only a moment to get her to look at me. I want her to see that I'm not angry.

"I'm not going to hit you," I say softly. "Do you like guitars?" I ask.

"I like music," she says with tears still running down her face.

"I do, too. This is my guitar."

"Can you play it?" she asks with a sob as she tries to stop crying.

"I know a few songs. Would you like for me to play one for you?"

"Yes, please," she says timidly, peering at me with her huge brown eyes.

"I don't think that I can play very well down here on the floor, so I'm going to get up, get the guitar and then sit on the couch over there, okay?"

"Okay," Abigail says with a sniffle.

I do as I described and, as I take a seat on the edge of the couch, Abigail spins around on the floor to look in my direction.

I begin to play, and she moves a little closer with each note.

By the last verse of the song, Abigail is standing a few feet in front of me. Her look of fear is replaced by one of awe as she watches my fingers move across the strings, making the music that she's hearing.

I play the last note of the song, and Abigail looks sad that the music has stopped. "You want me to play another one?"

"Yes, please," she says in a timid voice.

"I'll tell you what. Why don't we take the guitar with us to your room, and I'll play you a song after you get back into bed. Okay?"

"Okay," she responds, sounding almost excited.

I stand and, with my guitar in one hand, I follow Abigail to the door where Mac has been watching things unfold.

When we reach her room, Mac tucks Abigail in and then she leaves me in the room to play another song for her.

Abigail is asleep before the end of the song, but I keep playing to the end.

When the song is over, I leave the room, but return a few moments later with the guitar stand.

This guitar has found a new home - the corner of my little girls' room.

The rest of the weekend went well, but the next week presented them with some small challenges. The first one to come to Harm and Mac's attention happened on Monday evening when, after tucking in the girls, they'd gone to tuck in Ty. When he'd started to read to them, they had to wonder if they shouldn't be having Abigail read to them as well.

By Wednesday, they'd worked it out, but it had taken until the end of the week to have it down smoothly. The order in which the children went to bed didn't change. Sami went to bed first and got an age appropriate bedtime story read to her. When Abigail went to bed, she read to Harm and Mac, and, after a final kiss good night, Mac left the room, and Harm played a song on his guitar just for Abigail before she went to sleep.

Harm knew that finding out that he played the guitar didn't make his relationship with Abigail perfect, but not hitting her as she'd expected him to do that night was a step in the right direction, and their shared interest in music was a building block of their relationship as well. Also, in the week that followed, she didn't leave a room when he came in, and they got to spend a little one-on-one time, quietly bonding with each other as Harm played for her each night.

Other challenges presented themselves during the week, but compared to what they'd been through to this point, the solutions had been easy to implement. However, they were about to come face to face with a tougher challenge.

Mac had been right. The fight for the girls wasn't over.

It would be Saturday, May 26th that they'd be made aware that the monster was on the attack again.

**SATURDAY, MAY 26, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0945**

**HARM'S POV**

The doorbell ringing at this hour on a Saturday is odd, so I'm betting that it's a salesman of some sort, but when I open the door, a man only an inch or so shorter than I am says, "Mr. Rabb?"

"Yes," I answer cautiously.

"Is Mrs. Rabb here?"

"Mac," I call back into the house.

She must have been already on her way to the door because she appears at my side too quickly not to have been nearby.

"Mrs. Rabb?" the stranger asks.

"Yes, what's this about?" Mac asks.

The stranger extends his hands, and I see that they contain some folded papers. He shoves them at us to the point that our natural instinct is to take the papers and, when we do, he says, "Consider yourselves served."

He turns and leaves as I look down at the papers in my hand, and Mac does the same.

"Is yours a summons to appear in court on May 30th for a hearing on whether or not our temporary custody order should be rescinded?" I ask.

"Yes," Mac states.

"Looks like your intuition was right again. The fight isn't over." I state.


	19. Chapter 19

**PART NINE**

**WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 2007**

**FAMILY COURT**

**SAN DIEGO COUNTY**

**1300**

**MAC'S POV**

Before court was called into session, the attorney for the county said that he didn't know whether or not he'd need us as witnesses, but he wanted us present in the courtroom just in case.

This is going to be worse than I'd thought - we're going to have to watch from the gallery as two attorneys argue a case about our girls.

The couple who's brought us into court today are sitting poised in that straight-backed, nose in the air, high society way that I see when we go to the yacht club with Trish and Frank. Having to come here from the office, I'm feeling quite underdressed in my Marine uniform as I scan her designer dress and shoes.

Harm is in uniform also, but the man who's dressed in a well-tailored, three-piece gray suit, trying to take our daughters, doesn't seem to even register us on his radar.

Harm must sense my need for a shot of that 'no fear confidence' that he seems to have coursing through his veins, because I feel one of his large hands wrap around one of my smaller ones.

His touch causes me to turn towards him, and his eyes express to me that I shouldn't worry.

The third man at the couple's table stands. "Your Honor, Harry Woodman, I'm representing Mr. and Mrs. Alan Tate in this motion to rescind the temporary custody order of the Walker girls."

"And your grounds for bringing this motion, Mr. Woodman, would be what?" the judge asks.

"Your Honor, the social worker for the county in the case of the Walker girls, a one Rosa Morales, did not follow the policies and guidelines of her department, thus denying my clients' access to the Walker girls that resulted in the family court issuing the temporary custody order to another couple based on the bond formed during visitations that were denied my clients. In addition, when the Tates filed an objection to the placement of the girls, no time was taken to investigate their claims against Mrs. Morales before the children were ordered placed in the other couple's home."

"And what do you have to say to these allegations, Mr. Wayne?" the judge asked. Obviously, the attorney representing the county was no stranger to this court or, at least, this judge.

The short, round man representing the county stood. "Mrs. Morales did convey the interest of both the couples to her supervisors. Two major factors were considered in the placement of these children: the fact that the couple who met them first expressed a desire to adopt them and the fact that, when Mr. Tate called, he told Mrs. Morales that they wanted to adopt only the younger girl. The other couple wanted both girls, and that weighed heavily in the decision to place the children with the first couple."

"What do you say to that, Mr. Woodman?" the judge asks.

"Mr. Tate's a corporate attorney and is used to keeping accurate records of his calls. His notation for that call reads: 'Notified her of our decision to adopt the girls.' I've made the court a copy of only that section of his record book. You understand that, due to privileged information, he can't give you a copy of the page in its entirety."

"I see that Mrs. Morales is in the gallery today, so I'd like to hear from her directly for the rebuttal to your claim, if that's all right with you, Mr. Wayne."

"It is, Your Honor."

Mrs. Morales takes the stand. The attorneys from both parties ask her questions about the dates that the girls were introduced to each couple and her recollection of the phone call when Mr. Tate alleges that he told her that they wanted to adopt both girls.

The judge had questions of his own before releasing Mrs. Morales from the stand.

"Why did you introduce the girls to another couple if the first couple was interested in adopting the girls?" the judge asks as his first question.

"Your Honor, after meeting the girls, the first couple found out that they were expecting a child. They had an instant connection with the girls, but anyone could certainly understand why they had to carefully consider adopting not one, but two little girls after receiving the news that there was going to be a baby in their home in a few months. However, I was interested in placing the girls as soon as possible, so when the Tates expressed an interest in meeting the younger child, Samantha, I told them that she might not be available because another couple had expressed interest in adopting both of the girls, and keeping siblings together when possible is always our preference."

"What reaction to that information did you get from either Mr. or Mrs. Tate?" the judge asked.

"Mr. Tate asked me if they were definitely going to be adopted. I told him that I didn't have a definite answer either way. He then told me that meant that they were still 'up for grabs' and that he and his wife would like to meet both of the girls."

After Mrs. Morales leaves the stand, the file containing all of the records on the Walker case, including the ones placed in there by the placement committee when they made their decision, are turned over to the judge.

The attorneys continue to bicker back and forth for another forty-five minutes, basically restating previous information before the judge waves his hands and declares, "I've heard enough. I'm ready to rule." The attorneys fall silent, and the judge continues. "Based on the findings of the placement committee, I find that there's no reason to rescind the current custody order."

Mr. Woodman is on his feet in seconds. "Then, Your Honor, the Tates would like to ask for an injunction to keep the county from giving permanent custody to the other couple while the paperwork is drafted for a lawsuit seeking custody of the Walker children, and I'd like for you to order that the name of the other couple be released to us immediately so that a suit for custody can be filed as soon as possible."

"I can think of no precedence for a couple who's unrelated to the children to file such a lawsuit, but I also can't think of a legal reason why you can't file one, so the injunction to prevent the permanent custody or adoption of the Walker children is hereby ordered. The other couple will have to be notified before I'm willing to order the release of the couple's name."

The look on Harm's face is intense as he stands, but when he speaks, his tone is cool and calm.

"Consider us notified, Your Honor." Harm looks at Mr. Woodman. "Rabb, R A B B, Harmon, Jr. and Sarah MacKenzie."

The look on the faces of Mr. Woodman and his clients is priceless.

The judge, trying to regain some control, says, "Then it is so noted that the names of the other couple have been released at this time. Court adjourned," he announces before bringing down his gavel.

The county attorney approaches us quickly, trying to get between us and the opposing counsel and his clients. "You didn't have to do that, Mr. Rabb."

"Perhaps not, but I want this situation resolved as soon as possible. The delay in releasing our names until we were notified was just a way to waste time."

Alan Tate passes by us. "Now that I've seen you two, I know that you won't win this."

I want to punch the guy, but Harm is still calm, at least on the outside. It must be the years of self-control as a pilot that's keeping him cool under fire here.

Harm's tone is even but with an edge that any man would recognize as words of warning as he speaks. "I don't know what you're trying to imply by that statement, but I have no intention of letting you take our daughters. So, whether we win or lose, you're in for a fight."

**THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0630**

**HARM'S POV**

The Tates wasted no time in filing their suit in family court. We were notified on Tuesday, June 5th that the date for the custody hearing would be June 14th.

I enter our bedroom, headed for the shower after taking my morning run. I hear the water running and smile - Mac's in the shower. It'll be nice to spend a few intimate moments with her, even if it isn't in the most romantic of places.

We've hired an attorney who specializes in adoption law, but the best lawyer in town for such a case, according to almost everyone I've talked to, is scheduled to be in court that day - sitting with his clients, the Tates. Therefore, because it isn't in my nature to leave an important job up to someone else, I've been in the den until at least midnight for the last few nights, studying adoption law.

Mac and I have the morning off to go to her OB appointment. I'd have liked to have taken the entire day off to spend time with Mac, but we're unsure how many times we'll have to go to court in our fight for the girls, so we need to refrain from taking any more personal time off than what's needed to appear in court or to go to her doctor appointments.

I step into our bathroom to find Mac out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy bath towel and poised at an angle to turn off the water. That's when I notice it.

"Mac, when did that happen?" I ask with my finger pointing at her belly.

She pulls her arm out of the shower, leaving the water running. She follows the direction of my finger to discover what I'm talking about.

When she sees that I'm pointing at her belly, she smiles. "That's the reason why we're going to the doctor today. The baby, remember?" she says, amused by my confusion.

"I know it's the baby. What I mean is, how did I miss it? You're showing!"

Now Mac is blushing. "Well, last month around my appointment day, if I stood just right, I could see a little...I don't know. What's bigger than a bubble and smaller than a bump? Anyway, over the last four weeks, it's been getting bigger. Now, especially from the side..." She turns, leaving me with more of a profile view of her as she runs her hand over the towel until the material shows a definite outline. "...there isn't much doubt that I've got a baby bump."

I step in closer to her and place my hand over the small, round bulge under the towel. "I don't see how I missed it before."

She places her hand over mine. "You've been preoccupied with working to keep our girls ... and it isn't like I've been letting you see. My maternity clothes are big enough that my belly really doesn't show in them, and I've been changing in here when you're around so that you can't see the way I look."

"Why?" I ask, even more confused than before.

"Afraid to find out if you think that pregnant women are sexy," she says sheepishly, almost as if asking a question.

"I think that this one is," I say before dropping my head to meet her lips.

I start to deepen the kiss, but she plants her palms firmly against my chest, pushing me away.

"Oh, no you don't. I've already had my shower, and you're all hot and sweaty. We have a busy day ahead, and I can't let you get me distracted. So hit the shower before the water gets cold while I get dressed."

"On one condition..."

"And what would that be?"

"You get undressed in front of me tonight."

She's blushing. "I'd like that."

**EXAM ROOM**

**DOCTOR'S OFFICE**

**1000**

We're in the same room that we were in for our first visit, and I'm comparing the way that I remember it looked then to the way that it looks now when I hear a tap on the door.

"Good morning, Sarah. You've gained three pounds this month, so baby must be growing well, but how are you feeling?"

"Pregnant," Mac says with a smile.

The doctor chuckles. "That's good...I think. Any particular problems or concerns?" the doctor asks.

"I don't think so." She sounds like there's something else that she wants to say, but doesn't want to say it in front of me.

"Harm, would you do me a favor? I wanted to give you and Sarah some brochures on childbirth classes today, but I forgot to bring them in with me. I know that it seems like it's still a long way off, but it's time to start thinking about how you want to deliver your baby. Will you go out to my receptionist and ask her to give them to you, please, and then come back and join us so that we can all hear your baby's heartbeat, okay?"

I nod, but I know that she's sending me on this errand only so that she can talk to Mac. The doctor knows that something is on her mind, too.

I don't have a good feeling about this.

I have the pamphlets in a few minutes, but I don't know if I've been gone from the room long enough to let them talk, so I pace in the waiting room a little while longer, scanning a few titles of the material that I've just been given: Lamaze, water birthing tubs, C-section delivery. I hope that they've had enough time. I want to know what's going on and if whatever it is should give me cause to be concerned.

I get to the room where I left them, and the door is open. Mac and the doctor aren't in there. I swallow hard, trying not to panic. I hear a soft voice coming from beside me, but I can't make out any words. I feel someone touch my shoulder, so I look in the direction of the touch and see a young woman standing there.

"We moved your wife to the ultrasound room. Come with me. They're waiting for you."

My heart is in my throat as I follow the nurse to the other room. Mac has her top up and is positioned for the ultrasound, but she doesn't look upset when I step into the room.

"Good, you're here. Sue, now that Dad's here, please begin when you're ready," the doctor instructs the technician.

I move to Mac's side as the doctor begins to explain why we're in here. "Your wife was concerned about some strange sensations that she's been feeling across her belly. Not really pain, more like she has butterflies flittering around in her stomach, but there's no pattern as to when it occurs."

I look at Mac. "Don't worry. She said that it's just the baby moving around in there," Mac assures me.

I look at the doctor, and she's either seen a lot of concerned fathers-to-be or I'd better never play poker again because I realize that I've lost my poker face when the doctor begins to answer the question that I haven't asked.

"I'm sure that's all it is. First time mothers don't always know which sensations are good and which are bad, so I'm glad that she told me. With Sarah's blood pressure being up a little higher than I'd like to see..." She must see the concern in my eyes at that part of her statement because she's quick to say, "Not high enough that I have concerns at this point, especially given the situation with the adoption that Sarah was telling me about when I asked if she was under any unusual stress. However, since I am a doctor for patients with risky pregnancies, I like to check on things to be sure. So, between the increase in blood pressure and the sensations that Sarah has mentioned, I wanted to take a little look to make sure that all is well, and Sarah has been kind enough to indulge me. I think that it was being able to get another picture of the baby that won her over."

Sue has let the doctor finish speaking before starting. "Ready for the cold stuff again?"

Mac nods and reaches for my hand as the cold blob plops onto her belly. A few moments later, we're looking at our baby on the monitor.

I look at the small image on the screen. As Sue does the ultrasound, I watch in awe at how much bigger she is since last month when we saw her.

After the ultrasound is complete, the doctor says that she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary and that she's sure that the sensations that Mac is feeling are just the baby saying 'hi or don't forget that I'm in here.'

Though Mac's blood pressure isn't high enough to be alarming, it is higher than the doctor would like for it to be, and she asks us when we might know something about the adoption issue that Mac spoke of earlier. We tell her that we have a hearing next week, but don't know if a decision will be rendered that day or not. The doctor suggests that, after the hearing, we get away for a weekend to relax. The last thing that the doctor says is that she wants to see Mac in two weeks this time to touch base and check her blood pressure. She also suggests that it might be a good visit to which to bring the children since it will be a short visit. They can hear the baby's heartbeat, which often makes the baby much more real to the future siblings and causes them to become excited about meeting the new baby.

I'm not thrilled with the idea of Mac having to be back here in two weeks, but I'm trying to stay calm.

It's a safety precaution and not a reason to get worried. It's a safety precaution and not a reason to get worried... I wonder how many more times I'll have to repeat it before I believe it?

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**BEDTIME**

In the car on the way to the house to change into our uniforms before heading off to work, I wouldn't call it an argument, but we had a few words about her not mentioning having 'sensations' before today.

Mac said that she'd been feeling them off and on for only a couple of weeks and she didn't think that it was anything to worry about, and if it was, she didn't want me to worry because I was already taking on the load of worrying about losing Abigail and Sami. I told her that it's because I don't want her to worry about anything. Her only 'job' right now is running her command, because the brass won't let me do it - neither would she, for that matter - and taking care of herself and the baby. While she's pregnant, I'm in charge of all the worrying. My 'attitude,' as she called it, didn't go over very well.

Since the other children were in school, we sat down to have lunch with Sami before leaving for work and, since we got home from work, we've had the children with us, so I haven't had a chance to talk to Mac since our ride home from the doctor's office together. Therefore, I've been pacing our bedroom, waiting for Mac to come in after saying goodnight to Ty.

I feel her presence and look up to see her in the doorway.

"I'm tired, Harm. I don't want to fight with you anymore tonight," she says when my eyes make contact with hers.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore, period. I'm sorry."

She moves in closer to me. "You're sorry for what?"

I break eye contact with her. "I'm sorry that I'm not handling all this very well. I want you to know that I want to get it right. I just don't seem to be able to do it."

I feel her hand on my arm for a moment before I feel her other hand stroke my cheek. "I don't understand. You aren't getting what right?"

"I want to be a good dad. Even if we lose, I want the girls to know that we wanted them and that we were willing to fight to keep them ... but I also want to be a good father, and while I've been focusing on the fight for the girls..." I reach out and let my fingertips touch Mac's baby bump. "...I didn't notice that my baby girl is starting to make her presence known ... and I want to be a good husband. Better than good, I want to be the kind of husband that you deserve ... and I found out today that you're too worried about me to tell me something that's happening with the baby. I'm not getting any of it right!"

"It's because you're trying to do it all by yourself. I know that my blood pressure is a concern to everyone, including me. I'm not taking it lightly, Harm, but I want to be a good mother ... and, right now, that means letting you take on the pressure and strain of fighting for our girls so that I can minimize my stress ... but I also want to be a good wife to you, and that means that you need to share some of the load with me. This time, though, I didn't do a very good job of telling you that I appreciate the hours of sleep that you're missing to make sure that our lawyer knows his stuff. You need to let me take care of you a little, too, like not telling you about every little twinge that I feel if I don't think that it's anything to worry about."

"See, I wanted to try to make you feel better and, instead, you made me feel better. That's what I mean about not getting this husband thing right."

"You really want to make me feel better?" she asks in that sexy purr of hers.

"Yes..."

"Then you can do two things. One is take tonight off and get some sleep. You'll see that a good night's sleep will do wonders for how you feel ... and the second is to finish that kiss that you started this morning. You know, the one that says that you find this pregnant woman sexy."

I lift an eyebrow, and she giggles as I take her in my arms. Our lips meet, and soon we're in a passionate kiss.

Tonight is going to be about loving the woman who I married and getting a good night's sleep so that we can face tomorrow - together.


	20. Chapter 20

**PART TEN **

**THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 2007**

**FAMILY COURT**

**SAN DIEGO COUNTY**

**0900**

**MAC'S POV**

I have an upset stomach as we enter the courtroom. I know that Harm has been studying adoption law every night, except for last Thursday when we made love before he got caught up on some of the sleep that he'd been missing, but we could lose the girls today.

Our attorney seems to be confident that the judge won't go against the decision of the county's placement committee, but he can't be a hundred percent sure because there hasn't been a case like ours go through the courts before.

I'd have more faith in him if he were here.

Waiting for our attorney with court about to begin, my stomach is doing real flip flops now and I don't think that it's making the baby very happy.

Harm reaches over and takes my hand. "When this is settled, I think that we should get away for a weekend," he whispers to me.

I don't have time to respond because the bailiff enters to announce the judge, calling court into session.

We all rise as the judge enters the courtroom.

The judge takes his place, and I don't know if it is a good or a bad sign, but we have the same judge that upheld our temporary custody order.

I look back to see if our attorney is coming through the door, but he isn't there. I do see Mr. Wayne in the gallery, making sure that the county's interests are covered.

The door moving at the back of the courtroom catches my attention. Could our attorney finally be here? It isn't our attorney. It's Trish and Frank.

Knowing that we have their support makes me feel better. Now, if only our attorney would get here...

I take a deep breath and try to remain calm as the judge begins the session. "I see that you're back in my court, Mr. Woodman, representing Mr. and Mrs. Tate. Mr. and Mrs. Rabb, are you represented by counsel?"

Harm stands. "We are, Your Honor, but he isn't here yet."

"We can reschedule this hearing for..." He looks at his court clerk to get an open date.

To my surprise, Harm stands again.

"Not necessary, Your Honor. I'm sure that he's on his way and I'm capable of filling in for him until he arrives."

"Your Honor, not that we mind if the Rabbs want to hand us this case, but he's a military lawyer," Mr. Woodman says with a sneer.

"Are you licensed to practice law in this state?" the judge asks Harm.

"I am, Your Honor," Harm replies.

"Then I take it that you'd have no objection to Mr. Rabb representing his own interest in this proceeding until their counsel arrives, would you, Mr. Woodman?"

"None, Your Honor," Mr. Woodman replies to the judge as Mr. Tate breaks out in an arrogant smile that says, 'We've won.'

They don't know my Harm. He's probably the most tenacious man who I've ever met, and he performs well under pressure.

They don't know the long hours that Harm's put in studying adoption law and working with our attorney.

I'm actually feeling better with Harm as our counsel. He's a good lawyer and he understands what's at stake here.

"Then, if that's settled, let's begin. Mr. Woodman, you're up."

"I'd like to call Rosa Morales to the stand."

It takes fifteen minutes for Mr. Woodman to get all the dates that he feels are important into the record, the same dates that he cited at the last hearing: the date we met the girls, February 10th, the dates we had contact with the girls after that, art camp on the 19th and then a gap of a month before we saw them at Ty's birthday party on March 25th, and the day we called to tell Mrs. Morales that we wanted to adopt both girls on the third of April. After establishing our time line, Mr. Woodman gets the dates of his clients into the record. They met the girls the week prior to Ty's birthday and they called Mrs. Morales the following week on the 28th of March to tell her that they wanted to adopt the girls...almost an entire week before we called to tell her that we wanted them.

"A call that was two months in coming from the Rabbs when the Tates took only a week to make their decision," Mr. Woodman pointed out as he concluded questioning Mrs. Morales.

That's all I have for this witness, Your Honor, Mr. Woodman says as he sits down.

Harm stands. "Mrs. Morales, there's a gap of almost two months between our initial meeting with the Walker girls and our call telling you of our decision to adopt the girls. Did we contact you at all during that period?"

"Yes, I spoke to you or your wife by phone several times over those two months.

"During those phone conversations, in general, what did you discuss with my wife or with me?"

"How the girls were doing, mostly. One time we talked about them meeting your other children and their potential grandparents in the informal setting of an art day camp, and separate calls were about the girls visiting you at Easter and attending your son's birthday party. We also discussed your conflicting emotions about wanting the girls, but not wanting to bring them into your family if you weren't _certain _that you could give them the attention that they needed."

"Was there a reason why we believed that the Walker girls might require extra attention?"

"Yes, the girls had been placed in a home prior to yours, but the male in that home had physically abused the older girl, Abigail, causing her to withdraw into herself and to become distrusting of adults, particularly men. The girls were going to need constant reassurance for the first few months of living with a new family to combat that."

"One last question ... after the initial meeting between prospective parents and a child, or children in this case, what's the average length of time that a couple takes to decide that they want to adopt the child and call to tell you that they've decided that they want to proceed with the adoption?"

"I can't really answer that. Some say that they want the child right away, some wait days ... some take weeks. It just depends on the situation. Every case is different."

After excusing Mrs. Morales from the stand, the judge has words of warning for Mr. Woodman and his clients. "This is sounding a lot like a rehash of the last hearing, Mr. Woodman. If this is going to be your case, save the court's time and drop your case now."

"Your Honor, we intend to show that the Tates offer a more stable and suitable home for the Walker children than the Rabbs do, and that's why this court should award the girls' custody to the Tates."

"So who's next, Mr. Woodman?"

"Mr. Alan Tate."

Mr. Tate takes the stand, and his attorney asks, "Why do you want the Walker girls, Mr. Tate?"

"We'd originally wanted to adopt only one child, but when we found out that she had a sister, we decided to meet both girls. The younger one, Samantha is an energetic child and, though her sister is shy, we couldn't help thinking of them as part of our family immediately. After discussing taking on two girls instead of one, I called Mrs. Morales to tell her that we wanted to adopt both girls."

"And were you allowed to see the girls at that time?"

"Yes, the Saturday after I called, March 31st, we visited the girls at the home."

"And did you attempt to schedule another visit with the girls?"

"Yes. I called Mrs. Morales on April 5th to schedule a visit for the coming weekend, but I was told that the girls already had plans and that she wasn't going to change them. I now know that those plans were with the Rabbs."

"We know that you feel that you and your wife weren't given the time to form a bond with the girls. Isn't it also your belief that, because of the lack of contact with the girls, the girls weren't placed in the best possible home?"

"That's correct."

"Then please tell the court why you feel that you and your wife would make better parents for the Walker girls."

"There are so many reasons. I guess I'd start with financial resources. We make mid-six figures annually. The girls would be able to go to the best schools and have anything a little girl could need or want. Another reason is that my wife works from home and would be there when the older girl gets home from school and would be home with Samantha all day. Both of the Rabbs are in the military. So, not only do both of them work outside the home, but each of them could be shipped off at a moments notice. In fact, the way I understand it, they could both be sent off at the same time, leaving the children with a professional care giver, a stranger. That can't be seen as the best environment for the girls. Then there's the fact that the Rabbs have two other children and one on the way to care for and support financially. The girls would be our only children and that would allow them to have more time with their parents. The last reason I can think of is the fact that my wife and I have been married for six years. The Rabbs haven't been married for even two years yet. They're still newlyweds, settling into their life together. My wife and I are settled and ready for children."

"Thank you, Mr. Tate. That's all I have."

There really aren't any questions that Harm can ask Mr. Tate that would discredit what he'd said. As far as Harm knows, it's all true, and to follow that old adage: "Never ask a question that you don't have the answer to," Harm doesn't have a choice but to let the man off the hook. So, what Harm has to do is counteract his testimony with equally compelling testimony.

"I have no questions for Mr. Tate," Harm says.

Mr. Woodman then makes a request, "Your Honor, I have no further witnesses at this time, but I would like to submit the Tate's tax returns for the last five years as proof of their annual income, copies of bank statements showing their current cash reserves, a copy of their marriage license, and several letters from friends and country club members, attesting to the character of the Tates as well as their belief in the suitability of the Tates as parents."

"Okay, I'll accept all that into evidence, and that will take us over to you, Mr. Rabb," the judge says as the bailiff hands the judge the papers from Mr. Woodman. The judge then continues, "Now, I have to ask if you want to continue or reschedule when you've been able to track down your attorney."

"I'm ready to proceed, Your Honor," Harm replies with confidence.

"Do you have a witness to call?"

"I call Sarah Rabb."

I take the stand and, when I get seated, Harm begins. "I assume that, since Mr. Tate put the money issue first in his testimony, it's pretty important to him, so let's begin there. Mrs. Rabb, did the county ever voice any concern about you and your husband's income being ample enough to care for the girls?"

"No."

"Do you have any concerns about being able to provide financially for your children, considering that your husband owns a classic car and a vintage airplane?"

"No. The car is paid for and has been kept up so it incurs only normal maintenance like oil changes that any car would need. The plane was his grandfather's and was given to him by his grandmother. Thanks to the father of our oldest daughter, the plane is stored in a hangar free of charge, so the expenses on it are incurred only when he flies and, since it's in Virginia and not here, he doesn't get to fly it very often. And, frankly, I know that, if we needed the money, he'd sell either or both of them. In fact, he's currently in escrow to sell his DC loft to cushion our savings."

"You mentioned our oldest daughter. How old is she?"

"Eighteen and graduating from high school in a few weeks."

"Aren't you concerned about how you're going to manage to pay for college while supporting your other children?"

"No. Her father sold his business and put the funds in trust to pay for her education."

"I have a question, the judge says, interrupting Harm's questioning. If her father's alive, is she your child with this other man, Mrs. Rabb?" the judge asks.

"No, Your Honor. Her mother is deceased and her father wasn't capable of caring for her, so my husband became her guardian. When we were married, she became our daughter," I answer, looking at the judge.

"Mrs. Rabb..." Harm begins his questioning again. "...since you and your husband both work, you have a licensed nanny as a home care provider for your children, correct?"

"At this time, yes. However, I'm retiring to be able to stay at home with our children."

"How would you address Mr. Tate's concern about one or both of us being deployed?"

"I would say that, though it's possible, it isn't very likely that either, much less both of us, would be deployed at the same time."

"Why do you say that?"

"For me, I'm a commanding officer, and it's unlikely that I'd be pulled from that duty to be deployed. It's much more likely that, if I were called away, it would be to some budget meeting in Washington rather than deployed to some 'hot spot.' I'm also not seen as currently fit for combat since I'm five months pregnant, adding to my belief that I won't be deployed in these final months before I retire. As for my husband, he is called away from time to time for a specific case, but it would be unusual at his current rank for him to be reassigned from his current duty station to be deployed for a prolonged period of time."

"What if he was? Have you thought about what you'd do, Mrs. Rabb?"

"If my retirement hadn't become effective yet, I'd retain the nanny for daily care while I served out my remaining time ... and my husband's parents live nearby, and they're very supportive. They'd help out wherever I needed them."

"I don't have anything further," I announce, nodding towards the judge.

"Mr. Woodman, do you have any questions for Mrs. Rabb?"

"I know that he fears looking like a bully if he interrogates a pregnant woman too roughly, so Mr. Woodman passes on asking me any questions.

After I've returned to my seat next to Harm, Harm offers a few more words for our case.

"Your Honor, we do have two other children, but one is the daughter who was mentioned who's about to go off to college. The other child is our adopted son who's eight. Mr. Woodman and the Tates see it as a negative, but I see it as a positive. We have practice in the area of adoption, and the girls are getting a loving home with siblings. As to Mr. Tates assumption that we could be deployed, it is possible. Therefore, we had discussions of who would care for our children while we were away prior to adopting our son. My parents, who are here in the courtroom, have said that they would assist with that if it became necessary, but, as my wife indicated in her testimony, with the more recent developments of her retirement and pregnancy, both of us being deployed at the same time has become almost a non-existent possibility. As far as how long we've been married, it's true that we won't hit the two-year mark until September, but I've known my wife for over a decade. No one knows me better than she does. There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for her or my children, and that includes the girls who we're here about today. We love them and, as far as we're concerned, they're already our daughters. That's all I have to say, Your Honor."

"Thank you, Mr. Rabb." The judge pauses. "It looks like I have some material to read through," he says as he looks at the stack of papers with which Mr. Woodman has supplied him. "I think that it's in the best interest for these girls to get this resolved as quickly as possible." He pauses again. "I'd like to reconvene tomorrow afternoon at 1:00 o'clock to render my decision. Is that time acceptable to everyone?"

I'd like to be able to breathe a sigh of relief, but, without a decision, I can't.

I'll have to wait until tomorrow afternoon to know what fate has in store for my family.


	21. Chapter 21

**PART ELEVEN **

**FRIDAY, JUNE 15, 2007**

**FAMILY COURT**

**SAN DIEGO COUNTY**

**1300**

**HARM'S POV**

Yesterday afternoon, we tracked down our attorney through his office. It seems that he'd been in a car accident on the way to the courthouse and had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. He'd been in the ER being stitched up while we'd been in the hearing.

Last night, Mrs. Morales stopped by to see how everyone was holding up. She didn't stay long, but before she left, she did say that she didn't think that we had anything to worry about because the judge had called wanting copies of the visitation room tapes that had swayed the placement committee, and she was sure that they'd win the judge over as well.

Mac has been my rock these last two days. After putting the children to bed last night, Mac and I spent most of the night cuddled together in the middle of our bed in silence until exhaustion took over and we finally fell asleep.

We'd arranged to have today off at the same time that we'd arranged for yesterday off, feeling that, if we won, we'd want to spend time with the girls, and if we lost, we might need the day to recover from the blow.

As we enter the courtroom this afternoon, my stomach starts to do flip flops. We could lose the girls today, and as much as I've tried to prepare myself for it, I'm not ready to hear that they've won.

I see our attorney who was MIA yesterday, and I don't know if I'm thankful that he's here today or angry that he wasn't here yesterday when he could have done some good.

Mac and I sit next to our lawyer, and the look that Mr. Tate shoots me makes me furious. He thinks that he's won and he's gloating.

I have to force myself to look away and try to focus on what our attorney is saying before I lose my temper.

"I had my office send over the paperwork that I had assembled to turn into the judge as soon as I was able to make a call yesterday. So he has a copy of things like your tax returns, the contract that lists the cost of storing your plane as zero, your oldest daughter's trust fund paperwork and your wife's retirement request. The judge will be able to see that she filed it before all of this started, so it wasn't done in an attempt to gain custody, but that you really have been acting in the girls' best interest since you met them. This morning, I found out that the judge requested the video tape evidence from the county and that he's asked Mrs. Morales to appear this afternoon."

"You see that as a good sign?" Mac asks.

"Yes..." He doesn't get to explain because the bailiff walks in to announce the judge's arrival.

We all stand as the bailiff makes the formal announcement.

Yesterday, I got the feeling that this judge was a pretty relaxed kind of guy, but today, at least, he comes out all business. He begins to speak while arranging piles of papers on the bench in front of him.

"I decided after court was adjourned yesterday to review this case from the beginning. While reading the girls' file, I saw the notation that the placement committee had placed in the file when they'd made their decision to place the Walker girls with the Rabbs. I'm going to quote the notation verbatim for the record." He looks down to read from the file in front of him. "'After viewing both couples' interactions with the children in the video from the visitation room, it is the decision of this panel to place the Walker children with the Rabbs.' I wanted to know what they saw, so I requested those video tapes. I've also asked Mrs. Morales to stop by to ask her a few questions. So, Mrs. Morales, please step forward."

Mrs. Morales takes a seat in the witness box, and the judge asks her, "Have you done any home visits since the Walker girls were placed in the Rabb home on the 18th of May?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I dropped in for a surprise visit the following Tuesday evening, May 22nd, to see how the girls were settling in. I also wanted to make sure that Abigail had been registered for school as the Rabbs had been instructed to do and to give them the okay on the nanny selection that they'd made."

"What if anything did you observe while you were there?"

"That shy and quiet little Abigail was more talkative. She told me that she'd found a guitar in the den and, when Mr. Rabb had caught her touching it, he hadn't hit her, which she seemed both surprised and happy about. This isn't an odd reaction considering her last home placement. She went on to tell me that the guitar now had a new home in their room ... and Sami, well, she was her usual happy self. She had to tell me that, when Mrs. Rabb took them shopping on Saturday for swimming suits so that they could get in the pool, she'd seen a throw with ladybugs on it similar to the one in her bedroom. It had been purchased for her so that she could take it to Mr. Rabb's parents home with her until the nanny could start to work."

I don't know why hearing the story about the small ladybug throw that Mac bought for Sami so that she could have 'bugs' for nap time away from home causes me to get choked up, but it does. Sami is my ladybug lovin' little girl. She belongs with us.

I take a deep breath, and I feel Mac's fingers clamp around my hand. She knows when I need her, and I'm getting better at letting her show me that she's there for me.

"Did you visit the Rabb home at any other time?" the judge asks Mrs. Morales.

"Yes, on the evening of May 30th and on June 13th and 14th."

"Were they for different purposes or did you go that many times for the same reason?"

"I'd have to say that the first on May 30th and yesterday were for the same reason, to check on the family to see how the Rabbs were doing after court. My visit on June 13th was in a similar vane, but not exactly the same. I wanted to make sure that the girls had some inkling of what could happen in court without them getting too alarmed in case you ruled that they couldn't stay with the Rabbs."

"And what did you observe if anything on those evenings?"

"All the children were aware of what was going on. Of course, the oldest daughter understood exactly what was going on and what could happen. Their son, Tyler, is an old pro at foster care. He might not have understood all the legal talk, but he knew that it meant that Abigail and Sami might not be his sisters after all, and Abigail seemed to rely on Tyler for her information about the situation. Sami was told that the other people who they'd met wanted them to come and live with them, so they didn't know if she and her sister were going to get to live with the Rabbs for a long time or not, but that they were going to get to live there until a judge decided where they were going to live for good."

"Do you have any idea of how the girls are handling this?" the judge asks.

"The Rabbs had the nanny start the 21st of May. I've spoken to her by phone many times since this began back on May 30th. She says that Abigail is retreating into herself and she sees signs that she's starting to pull away from the family. I'm sure that she's preparing to be separated from the Rabbs so that it won't hurt so much if she is. Sami is having trouble sleeping and woke from her nap, saying that she'd had a bad dream. She's also had a couple of wetting accidents during the day."

"Thank you for your time today, Mrs. Morales. That's all the questions that I have for you."

The judge shuffles papers again while waiting for Mrs. Morales to step out of the witness box. When she's seated in the gallery, he speaks again.

"This morning, I watched the video tapes that I requested yesterday. I wanted to speak to Mrs. Morales to see if there was any new information that might change my mind, but her testimony this afternoon hasn't done that, and I'm ready to render my decision now."

The judge takes a moment to compose his thoughts, or perhaps it's just a dramatic pause before verbalizing his decision.

"Neither of the couples in this case are related by blood in any way to the children for whom they are seeking custody, and that is uncharted territory for this court, but I don't think that arriving at the best environment in which these two young girls are to be raised is any different than any other case. After viewing the tapes of the visitation between the two couples and the girls, I have to say that, in my mind, there's no doubt as to where these girls belong."

The judge stops and looks directly at the Tate table before speaking again.

"Mr. Woodman, I found it strange that you didn't have Mrs. Tate testify. Mr. Tate wasn't the best of witnesses alone. He seemed rather cold and unfeeling on the witness stand and called only one of the children by name. He gave this court facts, but never did I feel that he had an emotional interest in the children ... and when I viewed the tapes, I was convinced that I was right. Mr. and Mrs. Rabb got down on their level to speak to them. During the Tates' first visit with the girls, when the younger one approached Mr. Tate, he stepped back. Now he might be just one of those men who can't openly express his feelings, even with a child, but with young children like the Walker girls, they need that kind of closeness. Watching Mrs. Tate with Sami, I believe that she has a true desire to be a mother to her. At your second visit, only Sami was present. Your most recent visit on March 31st, you also saw only the younger child. You implied that you saw both girls, but when I called the home, I was informed that you'd requested to see only Samantha. This makes me believe that Mrs. Morales was telling the truth, that you called seeking to adopt only the younger girl and changed your story when you thought that taking both girls was the only way to get the one you wanted."

The judge leans back in his chair and turns to face our table.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rabb, from your interactions with the girls in the video, I saw genuine concern in your behavior, I also heard love for each other and your family in Mrs. Rabb's testimony yesterday ... and through Mrs. Morales observations, I know that the feeling is mutual between you and your family. It is for those reasons that I order that the Rabbs have continued custody of the Walker children."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Mac says with heart-felt gratitude and a sigh of relief.

"How could we lose? You're the best, and Rabb represented them," Mr. Tate asks his attorney, though I don't think that he intended for it to be heard by the entire courtroom.

"Mr. Tate, you've hired the best lawyer in town and you've put on quite a proper face for this court, but that's all you've done. The Rabbs have shown me that they are capable and willing to do whatever it takes to incorporate these girls into their family. I think that you're making gestures to make your wife happy or to make yourself look good because you told your friends that you were going to have a new daughter. You're used to buying what you want, but that doesn't work in my court. I also think that you saw this case as an opportunity to get your fifteen mintues of fame and get into the law books as the man who paved the way for such cases. Well, I'm going to help you there. Unless Mr. Wayne, as a legal representative of the county, or Mrs. Morales has an objection, I'm prepared to sign the request to issue a final adoption decree today, waiving any further waiting periods, which is something that's never been done before that I'm aware of, so that you can't keep dragging the Rabbs into court."

"I think that it would bring the girls and the Rabbs the closure that they all need, so I'd certainly support such an act," Mrs. Morales answers from her seat in the gallery directly behind us.

"The county has no objections to such an order, Your Honor," Mr. Wayne says from the back of the gallery near the door.

"Then congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Rabb. I'll sign the proper forms at the end of the day. There are some forms that you'll need to fill out, sign and return to the court, but if you expedite your part promptly, you'll have the final adoption decree by the end of the month."

Mr. Tate stands. "I'll fight this. You can't give them Samantha. We want her."

"Mr. Woodman, I suggest that you tell your client to get control of himself before I hold him in contempt of court!" the judge says firmly.

Mrs. Tate stands as Mr. Woodman pulls on Mr. Tate's sleeve to get him to sit back down and stop his outburst.

"Your Honor, my husband didn't want me to testify. He told Mr. Woodman that I was too emotionally fragile, but that isn't true. I told my husband that I wouldn't lie and tell this court that we'd said that we wanted both girls from the beginning. I didn't think that I could handle both girls. As much as I want Samantha, you've made the right decision, Your Honor. I couldn't raise both girls alone, and my husband isn't cut out to be a father. He's sees everything as a competition. I've put blinders on and ignored it for too long, but I couldn't help but have my eyes opened when I went into his home office last night and saw that he was searching the internet for a classic car and a vintage airplane to buy. He just couldn't stand that Mr. Rabb has something that he hasn't." She sits down, and her husband gives her a dirty look. He isn't happy with her open-court confession of his flawed personality.

It takes only a couple of seconds after Mr. Tate's outburst and Mrs. Tate's statement before the judge adjourns the court session.

Mom and Frank come up to us immediately to offer their congratulations.

Mom has a big smile on her face when she says, "With Father's Day being this Sunday, could you have received a better gift than to know that those two precious little girls are yours?"

"I can't think of anything better than that," I reply, flashing my fighter jock grin.

Mrs. Morales then stops us on our way out of the courtroom to ask if she can come over to the house to see the girls' reaction to the news that they've found a permanent home.

**OUTSIDE THE RABB HOME**

**1545**

We're standing here in the driveway by our car, waiting for Mrs. Morales to arrive. I take Mac's hand and, when she looks at me, her brown eyes are sprinkled with gold flecks.

She stares into my eyes while she speaks, "You've slain the last of the monsters that were threatening our family."

"Yeah, not bad for a military lawyer, huh?"

We both laugh. It's the first time that either one of us has laughed in weeks ... and it feels wonderful.

Mrs. Morales pulls into our driveway, and we all go inside to tell everyone that we're officially a family.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1555**

We've assembled everyone in the living room and just told them the news.

"You're really my sisters now!" Ty squeals before giving each one of them a hug.

Abigail looks like she's in shock, but, after a few seconds pass by, she asks Mrs. Morales, "Does this mean that we never have to go back to the home?"

"That's right. This is your home. You have parents, another sister, a brother and a baby coming soon, too," Mrs. Morales replies.

Tears start down Abigail's face, and Mac asks, "Aren't you happy about that? Isn't a home what you wanted?"

"Yes it is, and I wanted this one. I just can't believe that it's true. I don't have to leave here," Abigail says with a sob.

Mac pulls Abigail into a hug.

"A princess never has to leave her castle if she doesn't want to ... well, except to go to school," Mac hastily adds.

While Abigail and Mac hug, it's Sami who has to be sure that she's clear on what's going on. "Does what the judge said make you my mommy and daddy?"

"Yes," I reply, and I'm rewarded with a glee-filled laugh and a hug. "I'm sure that Mommy wants one of those hugs, too," I tell Sami.

"I sure do," Mac replies.

The next thing that happens is a bigger surprise to us than anything that the judge said. When Sami moves to give Mac a hug, Abigail moves towards me and I'm the recipient of a short ... yes, it was definitely long enough to be called a hug.

In celebration of the new family members and because no one wants to cook, the Rabbs order pizza for dinner and enjoy their usual after-dinner routine with their children - all four of them - before seeking a good night's sleep in the comfort of their home now free of all monsters.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - FATHER'S DAY WEEKEND**

**PART ONE**

**SATURDAY, JUNE 16, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**MAC'S POV**

Since my blood pressure has become a concern again, Harm has taken to sleeping spooned behind me with his hand splayed over my belly like it's a shield protecting the baby.

He wakes with a start every time I move, so I hate having to disturb him so that I can use the bathroom.

I check my internal clock, 0525. That's too early. Harm's alarm goes off at 0530 during the week, but on Saturday, it's silent until 0600. I admire his commitment to a healthy body, but exercising six days a week seems obsessive. Of course, I am talking about Harm.

When he injured his knee while running on the base in Naples, his doctor recommended that he reduce the amount of running that he did, so he has changed his routine several times since suffering that injury last March.

For instance, when Harm met Paul, as apprehensive as he was about him being Mattie's boyfriend, he found him a good training partner and began to train with him in the three disciplines that make up a triathlon. That routine seemed to be working well for him...until Mattie broke things off with Paul. Harm said that he just couldn't keep training with Paul after he hurt Mattie, whether he'd done it intentionally or not. However, Harm enjoyed the variety of the three exercises and, with some revamping, like trading ocean swimming for our backyard pool, he's managed to keep all three in a rotating schedule: running on Mondays and Thursdays, bike riding on Tuesdays and Fridays, and swimming on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Sundays, he leaves open for family activities, but he usually ends up doing some type of exercise. Tomorrow, he's golfing with Frank in a Father's Day charity tournament.

I can't wait any longer than the two minutes and three seconds that I've been lying here awake not wanting to disturb Harm, so I make my move and, as I suspected, he's awake the moment I move his arm.

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding fully awake.

"I'm fine. I just have a full bladder ... that's all." I know that I sounded irritated.

I hope that my blood pressure is lower at my next appointment so that Harm will relax. I don't know if I can handle another three months of his hovering over me.

It takes me only as long to get to the bathroom door before I feel a pang of guilt over being short with Harm. I know that he's being this way only because he cares. He's worried about me and the baby.

I rub my hand over my belly. "He loves us, you know," I whisper down to our baby, who's safely encased inside me.

**MEANWHILE...**

**HARM'S POV**

I'm lying in bed, waiting for Mac to come out of the bathroom. I didn't mean to upset her. In fact, I'm trying to keep her calm. I want her blood pressure to be back to normal on Thursday when she goes in for her check-up.

I know that she's a Marine...can take of herself...blah, blah, blah. I've heard the speech over the years more times than I care to count. She doesn't understand. This is different.

I hear the bathroom door open and know that I'm about to come face-to-face with the Marine who I've just upset.

"I'm sorry," we say in unison.

"You go first." Again, we speak at the same time.

We offer each other an understanding smile. She sits on the edge of the bed next to me and then leans in and drops a kiss on my lips.

She starts to pull away, but my arm has snaked around her, and I hold her near.

"I know that I'm fussing over you and that you aren't happy about it. I'll try to reel it in a bit if you try to understand why I'm doing it," I begin.

"I know that you love me and that you're concerned about the baby, too, but -" She starts to interrupt.

I brush my lips against hers to silence her words. I want to finish what I wanted to say, but I don't want to upset her any more than I already have this morning.

Our lips part and I begin again. "I know that you're a Marine and capable of taking care of yourself, but this project of ours in too precious to have only one guard, don't you think? Consider me reinforcements."

I get a nod of acknowledgment to my statement.

"Besides, you'll have to forgive me for not seeing Marine green anymore when I look at you."

"What do you see now?" she asks before I can say anything else.

"I see the woman I love ... the woman I want to grow old with ... and I hate to inform the Marine in you, but that love comes with a desire to protect you from anything that could hurt you...even if you can protect yourself ... and it isn't sexist because I know that you feel the same way about me."

She breaks eye contact with me by lowering her head. "I do feel that way about you. I'd do anything that I could to protect you..." She still hasn't looked up at me. "...and you have a right to be a little more protective of me right now. For one thing, this is your baby, too, and just the way that we'd protect our other children, you have a right to feel that you should protect this one as well." She puts a hand on her belly. "Besides, with this belly, I don't know how high I could get my leg up for a good kick."

"I'll bet that you still have a mean karate chop though." That statement makes her smile.

Once again, we're thinking alike, but this time, it isn't expressed in words. We lean in to each other until our lips meet in a tender kiss, and that's when the making up begins.

**RABB KITCHEN**

**TWO HOURS LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

Making love before breakfast works up a woman's appetite, so we wake the children on our way to the kitchen to start breakfast and tell them to report to the kitchen ASAP for duty, because breakfast doesn't make itself.

The girls have now lived with us for a month, but just a week after they'd moved in, we were all thrown into a cloud of doubt about how long we'd be able to keep them.

It was one thing to know that we wanted them, but it was hard to treat them as a real part of the family when we were afraid of getting our hearts broken in case it was decided that they had to leave.

Harm and I spent a great deal of time last night after the children were in bed, talking about what we need to do to help the two newest members of our family settle in so that they feel at home now that the judge has made his decision and has paved the way for us to quickly finalize their adoption.

We decided that it should begin with incorporating them into our daily routines so that they're doing small things to help instead of being served like they're guests. The problem lies in how to do that without bumping someone else from a job and making them feel as if they're being pushed aside.

It's Ty who's first in the kitchen this morning. He's still in his pajamas, but he's wide awake and washed up, ready to help with breakfast.

Abigail and Sami come in together less than a minute behind Ty. They're also in their pajamas.

"Good morning, ladies," Harm says.

It's, of course, our Sami who speaks first and tries out his new parental name.

"Good morning, Daddy," she says as she makes a beeline to him.

Harm wastes no time in scooping her up and giving her the first hug of the day, but as he hugs Sami, he asks Abigail, who's just standing there looking lost, "Abigail, are you ready to help with breakfast?"

"I don't know what to do," she quietly responds.

"First, we have to decide what we're having. Mom and I narrowed it down to eggs or pancakes for the main course. Which would you like?"

"Pancakes," Abigail answers with a tiny smile.

"Then pancakes it is. Now, it's time for duty assignments," he says in a much softer tone than he'd use on real troops.

"Making pancakes is a relatively simply operation, so I'll need only one assistant for mixing the batter. Abigail, will you help me?"

Her face lights up. "Sure!" she replies with a hint of eagerness.

"Then the next duty is fruit selection. Ty, since you're a seasoned veteran in the kitchen, you should be in charge of picking out some kind of fruit that goes well with pancakes. Can you handle that assignment?"

"Yes, sir," Ty replies.

Before Harm says anything more, the question "What 'bout me?" comes from the smallest member of his squad, Sami.

"I think you have the most important job."

"I do?" She beams with pride.

"You get to decide who gets the first pancake off the griddle, so think over your decision wisely."

"What about me, Captain?" I ask with a sly grin as Harm puts Sami on a stool so that she can watch all the activity without getting in the way or getting hurt.

He looks at me and gives me a wink, acknowledging my meaning. "You can be Chef Ty's helper. You can assist him by doing any cutting that may be required after he's made his fruit selection."

"Aye, aye," I reply, which gets me a grin and a little wiggle of his eyebrow.

We've just begun to prepare breakfast when Mattie arrives in the kitchen, dressed for work.

"What's Mattie's job, Daddy?" Sami asks with excitement.

"She's in charge of putting the silverware on the table and getting everyone something to drink."

Sami smiles brightly at the fact that everyone has a job.

It's soon after Mattie's arrival that the first pancakes are ready to come off the griddle, and Harm looks at Sami.

"Have you decided who gets to eat first?" he asks, holding a plate of hot pancakes while three hungry faces look back at him from the counter.

"The baby gets to eat first so it will get big and come out," Sami states with authority as she points at me.

"Why, I think that's an excellent decision. Momma gets to eat first to feed the baby." Harm's says, looking at me with a grin.

As I get close enough to take my plate, he whispers in my ear, "I had nothing to do with her choice." Then he gives me a kiss on the cheek like he's trying to make up.

With the griddle hot, the next pancakes come off the griddle closer together, and Harm serves up pancakes to everyone.

Everyone having finished eating, I watch the children file out of the kitchen one at a time after putting their dishes into the dishwasher. They're off to their rooms to get dressed for the day.

Harm and Ty are going with Frank to a Father's Day with the Padres baseball game. Mattie is going off to work, so, for the first time, I'll really have the girls all to myself.

Harm arrives at my side, and I feel his arm come around my waist until his hand rests on my hip.

"I think that this morning went well. I hope that the rest of the day goes as smoothly," I say conversationally.

"Are you sure that you're up to having the girls by yourself today? I could drop off Ty with Frank and come home to help you with them," he offers.

"I think that I can handle it. I don't have anything definite planned, but I have a couple of things that I hope that they'll enjoy doing with me today. You go and do your guy thing with Frank. I don't want Ty to think that adopting the girls causes him to miss out on having time with you."

"I know, but he and Frank went alone last year."

"No, go. We'll be fine. Like you said, I need to spend as much time with the girls as I can right now. It won't be long until we've got a baby in the house." I lean back against his shoulder. "A baby in the house ... I like the sound of that more and more every day."

"You know what I like best of all?" he asks.

"What?"

"That we're doing it together - the way we'd planned."

I look at him. "I think, since we already have four children, we've deviated from the plan some."

"We have four? You've made that slip a couple of times. I thought that _we_ had three because Mattie was mine by a previous arrangement."

"Mattie and I weren't getting along then. Now, she's ours."

He laughs. "Is that how this is going to work? If one of them isn't behaving, then their mine, and if they're being little angels, then they're yours?"

"Something like that," I say before distracting him with a kiss.

**DINING ROOM**

**DINNERTIME**

**HARM'S POV**

When I'd called to say that Ty and I were on our way home and to find out if I should stop on the way to pick up something for dinner, Mac had sounded surprisingly energetic, especially for a woman who's almost six months pregnant and has been with two young children all day. Her voice was chipper when she told me that they were cooking dinner so that all her boys needed to do was come home.

Ty and I walk into the house, but before we make it to the kitchen, Sami greets us.

"Mommy said that dinner is ready, so wash up and report to the dining room," she says, sounding as if she's just repeating what she heard Mac say.

Gee, one day with Mac, and she's already sounding like a Marine.

I spend the first part of dinner trying to figure out what happened while Ty and I were out for the day. Every time I asked one of the girls what they did or if they had fun while we were gone, Mac says or asks something that changes the subject.

I spend the other half of our dinner listening as Ty recounts every moment of our day while I wonder why no one wants to discuss what the girls did while we were out. The house seemed to be in order when we got in a little while ago. Mac's in good spirits, cheery even. What could have gone wrong?

The only thing that I've been able to gather with some degree of certainty is that Mac doesn't want to talk about it in front of everyone.

I guess that I'm going to have to wait until later when Mac and I are alone in our bedroom to find out.

**MASTER BEDROOM  
BEDTIME**

**MAC'S POV**

Harm has on his pajamas, sitting in bed with the covers pulled up to his waist when I come in from the bathroom.

It's a pose in which I usually see him if he's reading, but he doesn't have a book in his hand and his bedside table light is off.

I look to my side of the bed to make sure that my light is on before I turn off the overhead light and make my way to the bed.

I get into bed and turn out my light.

When I turn back to kiss Harm good night, I find that he hasn't moved from his sitting position.

When my lips come near his, he turns his head so that I miss his lips, and my lips end up brushing across the stubble on his cheek.

"No, you don't get to kiss me until you tell me what happened with the girls while I was out," he says.

I think that, if the lights had been off longer so that I could see his face, I'd see that he was pouting.

"Not even one kiss?" I say before placing a kiss on his neck just below his ear.

"That's not playing fair," he offers in protest.

"Nothing happened. There's nothing to tell," I say before taking a little nip of his earlobe.

I'm kissing along his jaw line. The reason for my kisses is two fold. One, I find that I can't seem to get enough of him lately, a rather pleasant, for me at least, hormonal side effect of my pregnancy. Two, I know that I can distract him so that he won't want too many details of what we did today because, if I give him too much information, he'll know that, among the other things that the girls and I did, we went shopping for his Father's Day gift.

"If nothing happened, you could have said that when I asked at dinner."

I lift my head to answer. "After you left, we went out to run some errands and do some shopping. I had a few things that I wanted to pick up like some pre-mixed cookie dough. We weren't gone very long. When we got back, I made lunch. After the girls and I ate, I got Sami down for a nap. While Sami napped, Abigail and I baked the cookies that we had for dessert tonight. Baking with her gave just the two of us a chance to talk. When Sami woke up, we ate a snack before we discussed what we were going to fix for dinner."

"So you had a good time with the girls?"

"Yes, it was wonderful. You weren't worried, were you?"

"No, I wasn't worried. You're a Marine. You can handle a challenge."

"You bet I can. I married you, didn't I?" I put my lips to his, not giving him an opportunity to offer any words in defense or protest.

He doesn't say a word when our lips part. He just allows each of us time to take a breath before kissing me again ... and we end our day the way it began it...by making love.


	23. Chapter 23

**PART TWO **

**SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 2007**

**FATHER'S DAY MORNING**

**RABB HOME**

**0600**

**MAC'S POV**

I feel the soft warmth of his lips against my cheek and then at the corner of my mouth before he whispers, "Good morning, Beautiful."

I roll from my side, facing away from him, to my back before I crack an eyelid open to look at him.

"Good morning, Handsome," I say as my hand makes its way around to the back of his neck, bringing him down to me for another kiss.

When our lips part, I yawn and stretch, saying, "I need to get up and make breakfast."

His face is just inches from mine as he speaks. "It's Father's Day, so I get to pick what we do today, right?"

"Seems fair since, on Mother's Day, I got to choose, but I thought that you'd already chosen to play golf in the charity tournament with Frank today."

"I did and I'm still going, but tee time isn't until eight."

"So what do you have in mind for now?"

His face moves closer, and I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin as he whispers, "Let the kids sleep a little longer ..." He kisses me on the chin. "... while we have some alone time ..." He kisses the end of my nose. "... then I'll take everyone out to breakfast. After that, you can drop the girls and me at Mom's so that I can make tee time."

His lips come down on mine, and a slow kiss of love and desire begins.

**LUNCH SHACK**

**SAN DIEGO GOLF CLUB **

**LUNCHTIME**

**HARM'S POV**

The tournament has taken a break for lunch, and Frank and I have found a table at which to sit after making our way through the buffet line.

We're in the middle of lunch when someone approaches our table. When he gets close enough, he puts his plate on the table and pulls out a chair. The son is mirroring his father's actions to the man's right.

"Frank, this is my youngest son, Tony," he says as he takes a seat. "I have to say that I'm surprised to see you here, Frank. I didn't think that you had any children. Did you hire someone to play with you this year? You can tell me. I won't tell the officials."

Frank has always been respectful of the fact that he isn't my father, but maybe it's time that I gave him the respect that he deserves. After all, he was always available to be my dad if I would've let him.

"No need to hire out when your son and his clubs are in town at the same time for a change, right, Dad?"

The man's face pales, and I see him swallow hard. Of course, Frank is looking pretty pale at the moment, too. Maybe calling him dad was too much.

"Well, where have you been hiding?" the man asks me.

"My son's in the Navy and hasn't been stationed in the area until recently. His mom and I hope that he and his family will be around for a while, but only the Navy knows, right, son?"

I see a resemblance between Sami and Frank as he enthusiastically tests the waters by calling me son.

"Correct, the good news is that we're sure that we'll be here until after your next grandchild arrives," I say as if talking to Frank, although I'm really filling in the other guys on the fact that Frank is expecting a new grandchild.

Tony speaks for the first time. "My wife and are expecting our first child in August."

"Yeah, it'll be my third grandchild, but my first grandson," his father replies with pride.

"The baby will be my fifth grandchild, Tim," Franks says with an air of one-upmanship.

"Do you have more than one child, Frank?" Tim asks with surprise.

"No, Harm's the only one," Frank answers matter of factly.

Tony is shaking his head. "I can't imagine having five children," he mumbles. I think he's in shock.

I don't know which one of us is more relieved by the fact that it's time to continue the round when lunch is over, Frank or me. That Tim guy was annoying.

As we walk to our golf cart to get back to the course, I ask Frank, "You and Tim good friends?"

"We aren't friends ... acquaintances would better describe it. He and I were on a charity committee together a few years ago."

As we climb into the golf cart a few moments later, Frank says, "Thanks, Harm."

"Thanks for what?" I ask, confused.

"You spoke of me as your dad. That makes this my first real Father's Day ever. Thanks for that."

"Thanks for being around when I needed a dad," I reply sincerely.

'I'm glad that we're golfing, or this moment could easily get too sappy,' I think as I continue to drive the cart towards our after-lunch starting point.

I don't know why I've just now thought of this question, but it's really the first time that it's ever breached my thoughts. We're almost to our starting hole when I finally ask it.

"Frank, I know that I didn't appreciate having you around back then, but I've seen you with Tyler, and I know that you'd have been a great dad if I'd let you be." I pause for a moment. "I'm not the reason why you and Mom didn't have children together, am I?"

For as proud as he looked when I called him dad, he now looks as sad.

"No, Son, you aren't the reason. I think that we should play golf. It's too many years ago now. The reason doesn't matter any more."

I stop the golf cart and look him in the eye. "It matters to me."

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't you. It was Mother Nature."

"I don't understand. Mom had me so ... " I fall silent before I complete my thought. My mind has zoomed ahead and comprehended the implication of my thoughts. Frank must have a problem.

"Your mother had had you, but she wasn't a "spring chicken" is how she put it. She also had concerns about how you'd feel about her having another child ... but your mother wasn't the problem. Low sperm count and poor swimmers, I was told. Some of the treatments that they use now for such conditions were in the fledgling stages in those days. By the time the technology had become more widely available, I'd grown to accept that I'd never have a child of my own."

If I hadn't been feeling like a heel in the last year or so for the way that I'd treated him, I was really feeling like one now. This man, who I'd never given an opportunity to be my dad, had just told me that I'd been his only shot at fatherhood.

Frank puts his hand on my shoulder. "I think that things worked out for the best - even if I didn't think so at the time. I love your mother. Your mother and I have had a wonderful life together. Although it hasn't been until recently that you've let me be more of a father to you, you've always been my son. I'm just happy that now you don't mind that I tell people that you are. That's the best Father's Day present in the world." He's smiling. "You'd better get us to our hole, or we aren't going to stand a chance of winning this thing."

I'm a little sad as I start to move the cart forward again. My thought as we head to our hole is, 'I missed out on having a great dad.'

**BURNETT HOME**

**LATE AFTERNOON**

Aside from the time that it took me to recover from Frank's bombshell, we had a great time and played well enough to place second.

Frank was thrilled because Tim and Tony placed twelfth out of twenty-five pairs.

Last Friday, after our custody of the girls was upheld, my mom asked if the girls could spend the day with her, saying that she hadn't had a chance yet to get to know her new granddaughters, and, with Frank gone, they'd have the house to themselves.

Our SUV is in the driveway, so I wonder if Mac came over early just to help with dinner or if mom had a problem with one of the girls.

I enter the house behind Frank, anxious to find out what's been going on here while we've been gone.

We find everyone on the deck, but Ty is the first one to greet us. "Hi, Grandpa," he says, but he's headed for me. "I missed you, Dad," he says as he takes my hand.

"And I missed you, Buddy."

"I missed you, too, Daddy." Sami says as she comes running over to me and takes my other hand.

"I missed you, too."

"How about me, Sailor?" Mac asks just before she gives me a quick peck on the lips.

"Yes, I missed you, too." I look around Mac to see Abigail. "And I missed you, Abigail."

Abigail offers me a shy smile, but doesn't say anything.

"Where's Mattie?" I ask after getting no response from Abigail.

"She's in the kitchen, fixing her dad and grandpa a Father's Day feast," my mother answers as she greets Frank with a kiss on the cheek.

"Have you been here all day?" I ask Mac.

"No, but Mattie's been here most of the day. She left the house after she and I finished a project with Ty. She said that she needed to get things set up and make sure that she had everything that she needed to get dinner started. She said that your mother had agreed to help her make something that both you and Frank like. Ty and I didn't come over until after your mother called to invite us to Abigail's tea party," Mac replies.

"Grandma had a tea party after Sami got up from her nap. Grandma and Momma had tea, the rest of us had milk in tea cups, and Abigail and I got two cookies each and Sami got one," Ty adds.

"Well, it sounds like all of you had a good time."

"Yes, it was a wonderful day. How did the two of you do in the tournament?" my mother asks Frank.

"Placed second, but that isn't the best part. That guy who I was with on the hospital benefit committee a couple of years ago, Tim ... he was married to Tammy and had three boys. All their names started with the letter T, remember?" Franks asks.

"Yes, we called them the Tee family because their last name started with a T, too, but I can't remember what it was. He was an annoying man," my mother replies.

"He's still annoying, and he was there ... but thanks to our son, we took second place, and he and his son, Tony, came in twelfth."

I see my mom give Frank a sideways glance at the use of the words 'our son' just before I notice that I'm getting a similar look from Mac. I guess we'll both be explaining what happened on the golf course to our wives later tonight.

Mattie comes out and announces that dinner will be ready in fifteen more minutes.

"Harm, you've been out all day, so I'm sure that you'll want to leave shortly after dinner so that you can spend what's left of your Father's Day with your wife and children. So let's all go to my little get-a-way room for a few minutes before our dinner is ready, okay?"

"Our tea party room," Sami informs me as we head into the house.

We all gather in the room that's my mother's sanctuary. The room is cluttered with furniture, if you ask me. She has an antique table in one corner, which is covered in a fancy tablecloth trimmed with lace. I'm sure that's where they sat for their tea party. There's a Victorian styled couch and a chair in the room as well.

This room is where she keeps some of her favorite art pieces, and, in the bookcase that stands between the two windows facing the ocean, she keeps the photo albums containing pictures of the family that we were when my father was still alive. It's also the room where her piano resides.

My mother moves into the room until she's standing in front of the piano stool, and Abigail stops at her side. When the rest of us have filed into the room and found some place to sit, my mother bends over and speaks to Abigail in a voice too soft for any of us to hear.

We hear Abigail say, "No, I can do it."

Then my mother says something else that's too soft for us to hear before she turns to us and says, "I learned something about my granddaughter today, and she'd like to share it with you. Abigail, it's all yours."

"Harm plays me a song every night, so I wanted to play Harm a song for Father's Day. I haven't played in a long time, but Grandma let me practice this morning. So I want to play the song that I remember best ... if that's okay."

"Of course, dear," my mother reassures her.

If the song is for me, I feel that I should be closer, so I stand and place Sami, who was sitting in my lap, on the sofa where I was sitting.

Abigail sits at the piano, and I sit next to her before she begins to play. She plays flawlessly through the song before turning to look at me.

"Did you like it?"

"I loved it," I say as I put my arm around her and give the top of her head a kiss while the rest of the family claps for my daughter's piano performance.

"She said that her father gave lessons for extra money and was teaching her. She's definitely retained some of it, or perhaps she just has a natural talent for it. I think that she's nervous about playing in front of everyone, but she shouldn't be. She's quite good," my mother says in praise of Abigail's performance.

"Yes she is," Mac says before making her way over to give Abigail a hug, too.

Mattie waits until Abigail has received praise from everyone before she tells us to start heading to the dining room so that our dinner can be served.

**LIVING ROOM **

**RABB HOME**

**LATER**

They have me sitting down on the couch to receive my Father's Day gifts.

Since Sami is the youngest, she wants to give the present that she got for me first. "I picked it all by myself, Daddy."

"You did? Well, what is it?" I ask as I take the box.

"Open it to find out," she replies with a giggle in that bubbly young voice that's part of what makes her so cute and loveable.

"Is that how it works?" I tease as I open the small box to reveal its contents - an enameled metal ladybug on a key ring.

"It's red and black so it matches your car," Sami says to me.

"Yes, it does. Thank you." I pull her into a hug and kiss the end of her nose. "Every time I see it, I'll be reminded of my little ladybug at home."

"Well, Abigail has already played me a song, so is it Ty's turn?" I ask.

"I made a card for you at school," Abigail says shyly as she offers me the card that she's made for me.

After taking a moment to look at the art work on the cover and the words 'Happy Father's Day' written on the inside, I give her a hug and place a kiss on her forehead before I say, "Thank you, Abigail. That's a very nice card."

Next, Ty offers me a card that he made at school, too, and, after giving him a hug and a thank you, I find that all the children have a collaborative gift for me.

I pull the wrapping paper off the box and open it to find an 8" by 10" photograph of all four of my children.

"We thought that it would be better for your office if you didn't have a bunch of picture frames, so we had Grandma take our picture and we put it in the frame that Mac bought yesterday," Mattie tells me.

"And the project that Momma and I were working on before we went to the tea party was customizing the leather around the outside," Ty adds.

I lift the frame out of the box and look at the leather-clad edges to see that each one of their names is burned into the leather.

"I think that this might be the best present that I've ever received," I say before hugging all of my children, some of them for the second time. This truly feels like Father's Day to me.

After the picture giving, Mattie has another gift for me. She has a store-bought card with a coupon in it to watch the children one evening so that Mac and I can have a night out on the town before the baby arrives.

After hugging Mattie for a second time, it's time to start the evening routine of getting the children into bed. Today may be Father's Day, but tomorrow we all have to go back to work or school, except Sami.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

I hadn't realized that I'd been so quiet while we changed for bed until Mac gets into bed and asks, "Harm, are you okay? You've been awfully quiet since we came in here."

"I'm fine. I've just been thinking. The guy who Frank was talking about at the golf course today ... he told Frank that he didn't think that he had any children. I told the jerk that he did and called Frank 'dad'."

"What did Frank do?"

"He talked with pride about me being in the Navy before bragging that he was soon going to be a grandpa for the fifth time."

"And it bothers you that he took it so easily?" Mac asks.

"No, it makes me feel like a jerk."

Mac hooks her arm around mine and snuggles up close to my side. "Why?"

"I now know how much it would have meant to him if I'd tried only this one day a year to be nice to him by giving him a card ... calling him dad ... hell, just going to a baseball game with him. I should've given him this one day a year."

"Well, it sounds like you made a lot of that up to him this year."

"I guess."

"If you feel that badly, you could share your ladybug key chain with him." She laughs. "Sorry about that, but Sami was pretty insistent that you needed that because your car is 'ladybug colors.' I believe that's how she put it. I don't think that she has an appreciation for the cool man car concept yet."

"You should've broken the news to her that I'll be selling my car to get a minivan, so I won't have a car to match it."

"About that ..." Mac turns and pulls a piece of paper out of her night table drawer. "... I got Frank to call his contact. The new '08 models are due out in a few months, so Frank was able to get us a great deal on an '07 minivan with the works. The color choice will be limited because we have to take one that's in stock, but we can pick up our new minivan tomorrow." She hands the piece of paper to me "That has the address of the dealership that we're supposed to go to and all the information that we'll need to give the salesman after we've selected the one that we want." She pauses a moment to take a breath. "And because of the good deals that Frank has been able to get us on our cars, along with the great deal that he made us on the house, I don't see any reason why, since you're selling your loft to give us a financial boost, that you should have to sell your Corvette."

I turn and kiss her softly before pulling back. "Well, that's a very nice Father's Day present, but tell me ... in this budget configuration of yours, is there money for our daughter to have a piano and take lessons?"

"I think that we can work something out, Sailor."

"Why do you call me that? You know what it does to me."

"That's why I do it ... Sailor."

My lips claim hers, and soon I'll be feeling the joy of being loved by her.

It's the perfect end to this Father's Day weekend.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE **

**EXPECT THE**** UNEXPECTED**

**PART ONE **

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 4, 2007**

**BURNETT YACHT**

**0910**

**MAC'S POV**

Trish and Frank asked us to spend the morning on board their boat for the Fourth, and then later this afternoon, they're having us over to their house for a barbeque.

I'd invited them to our house, but Trish had said, "Next year, dear, when the baby's here. This year, we want you to just relax and enjoy the day."

Though I feel like Trish should take a rest from having us over every Sunday and holiday, after breakfast, Harm, our three youngest children and I got in the minivan and headed for the Burnett yacht. Mattie stayed home to work on her a term paper - her high school graduation ceremony is scheduled for August 3rd, but she'll join us this afternoon at the cookout.

We boarded ten minutes ago.

Since it's the first time that the girls have been on board, Harm, Frank and Ty took off with the girls to give them the grand tour.

I left Trish in the yacht clubhouse to finish her second cup of coffee while I went in search of some place away from the smell of it. The aroma doesn't make me sick, it drives me crazy - coffee is something that I really miss. Harm has taken to not drinking coffee at home or drinking instant so that I don't have to suffer through the aroma as it brews.

With no children under my watch, I take up residence on a chaise lounge on the clubhouse deck and lie back to let the morning rays warm my skin.

I close my eyes and think of the sunny mood that I've been in for the last two weeks. Why two weeks?

Because two weeks ago, I went to the doctor, and my blood pressure was down. In addition to that, the adoption papers arrived last week, marking the end of that saga, and tomorrow, I have my twenty-four week check up with the doctor.

It doesn't seem possible that my pregnancy is more than half over and, so far, it's been relatively easy. I just hope that the rest of it goes as smoothly.

I close my eyes and unconsciously start to rub my hand over my round belly. It's nice to be able to relax and enjoy being pregnant.

I've had an entire ten minutes to myself when I hear someone coming out on the deck to join me.

"Is everyone else still on the tour?" Trish asks.

I open my eyes in and attempt to look in her direction, but the light of the morning sun forces me to look out at the ocean.

"They're still gone, but I don't know if they're still touring. Do you remember the first time that we brought Ty on board? Frank and Harm had to give him fishing lessons after his tour."

"That's something that Sami would definitely want to try, but I don't think that it would be Abigail's cup of tea," Trish says as she takes a seat on the lounge chair next to me.

"You're probably right about that. Abigail is our girlie girl. I don't see her baiting any hooks."

"I don't see how you do it, Mac. You're working in a command position and doing more than holding your own with the men, according to Harm, while being pregnant. That alone would wear out most women, but you're doing it while raising three, young, active children."

Because of the change in her position to sitting on the chaise next to me, I'm not looking into the sun when I turn to look at her this time, and I reply with a smile, "I wouldn't be able to do it if you hadn't raised such a wonderful son. Harm helps out a lot."

She sighs. "Thank you...but I've often wondered how much I had to do with it. I'm sure that it's fallout from his father being MIA, but I've always felt that Harm raised himself. It was him taking off to Vietnam at sixteen that made me question my parenting skills the most. I couldn't understand why he'd want to leave his mother and his home to search for a father who probably wasn't alive."

I can tell that she still struggles with it because she couldn't say dead.

"It took me some time to realize that what he did wasn't because of the way he felt about me, but because of how much he loved and missed his father. I just needed to be there for him...not that he'd ever take advantage of that." She pauses. "He gets that from his father. Harm's father was the epitome of the strong, silent type, and I don't think that he ever really let anything faze him, at least on the outside. I think that the house could have been on fire, and he would calmly have stated something like, "we seem to have a situation on our hands that requires us to look at it from the outside, so let's get out on the lawn and take a look." Of course, later, when he knew that the fire was out and that we were all safe, that's when he'd whisper a prayer thanking God that he still had his family before ..." Trish has a distant look in her eyes, and I know that she's in another time and place with Harm's father. "Let's just say that he'd let me know that he loved me." She's blushing. "If that's an area where Harm takes after his father, you're a very lucky woman," she says with a chuckle. Trish stands. "I think that I should go get us something to drink. We don't want you to get dehydrated. Would you prefer lemonade or water?"

I'm not really thirsty, but I have the distinct feeling that Trish isn't thirsty either. She just wants a few moments alone to compose herself.

"Water would be nice, thank you," I answer.

As Trish walks away, I realize that it's the first time that she's ever mentioned Harm's father to me. I wonder what has her mind on him now. I close my eyes to ponder the reason.

I decide that I may have an answer when the next generation of Rabbs kicks, causing me to smile. Then, I'm struck with the thought: 'Would Harm's father be proud of his son and of the family that he's created?'

I continue to lie on the lounger, pondering the answer for a few minutes when I hear the sound of someone coming up behind me.

"I have your water, dear," Trish says just a couple of moments before she appears next to me and offers me a cold glass.

"Thank you," I say as I take the offered drink.

Trish sits down, and I look over at her. Her face shows no signs of the blush that it held when she left a few moments ago. She's regained her control and social graces, which makes me think twice before asking her about Harm's father.

"Trish," I say apprehensively.

"Yes, dear?"

"I don't want to upset you, but can I ask you a question about Harm's father?"

"I suppose it's a conversation that we should've had well before now, but we haven't had much time for girl talk. You said that you had a question. What is it, dear?"

"Do you think that Harm's father would have approved of me as Harm's wife?"

I find that Trish's smile calms my concerns before she's ever said a word.

"Darling, he'd be delighted that you were his daughter-in-law. He'd be proud of the accomplishments that Harm has achieved in the Navy, but he'd be more proud of the man he's become ... and you, my dear, are responsible for that, so he'd be delighted that Harm married you ... though I'm sure that his father would have teased him about marrying a Marine."

"Thank you, I needed to hear that, but I don't think that I had much to do with the man he's become."

"Oh, I know you did. My son's eyes have always sparkled when he talks about you. You intrigued him from the very beginning, but when you followed him to Russia to find his father, that's when he had to start examining how he felt about you. You want to know something that he told me about you and that trip?"

I nod my head.

"He told me that he'd never known a woman who could hold her own in any situation and be so damned beautiful doing it. The way that his eyes danced when he spoke of you ... that's when I knew that he was falling in love with you. Of course, I didn't know that it was going to take him so long to realize it and do something about it," she says with a chuckle.

My heart fills with a warmth that has nothing to do with the sun at her revelation that Harm had feelings for me back that long ago. I'd thought that I was the only one feeling anything back then.

"I'm not sure when I knew for sure that I was in love with Harm, but when I think back over the time that I've known him, I can't think of a time that seeing him didn't make me feel better or when his smile didn't brighten my day. Even when things weren't the best between us, seeing him had an effect on me. I wouldn't say that it was love at first sight for me. You know what I mean, when people say that they saw or met a person and they knew in that moment that they were the one for them, but I certainly think that I started to fall in love with him when we first worked together at Red Rock Mesa."

"I fell for Harm's father the moment I saw him. Of course, I never told him that. I would never have heard the end of it," Trish says with a laugh.

Trish continues to tell me when and how she met Harm's father, how happy he was when he found out that she was pregnant, a few stories about my husband as a little boy and how much of his father she sees in Harm before their son finds us, ending our 'girl talk.'

"Frank is getting the children a snack. Any takers on a snack out here?" Harm asks as he steps out to join us.

"No, thank you, but I am feeling a little warm. Maybe I should get out of the sun." I struggle for a moment, trying to get up from the low level of the lounge chair.

"Need some help getting up?" Harm says, which earns him a glare that has him doing double time to get into a position where he can help me.

**ADMIRAL BAKER'S FIELD**

**SAN DIEGO, CA**

**1100 **

Several members of his division were already present when PO First Class Alfred Bosworth, his wife and two children arrived just after eleven hundred for the squadron picnic, a Fourth of July tradition of detachment ten (DET 10) division of the helicopter unit HC-17 headquartered on NAS North Island.

The detachment had returned from deployment just over a month ago, giving families time to reconnect before involving them in social events. It wasn't the first time that DET 10 had been deployed to the Middle East, and most of them would be going at least once more before rotating to a shore duty billet. Meeting in a social setting like a picnic allowed the men to build team cohesion, while letting the wives meet and form friendships that hopefully would grow so that they'd have friends to see them through the next deployment.

Almost an hour after the Bosworths arrived, PO Second Class Ronald Lancaster showed up with his girlfriend of one year, Cindy, and his visiting parents.

Since he was planning to purpose to Cindy, he'd invited his parents to come out to San Diego so that they could meet her. It had seemed like the right thing to do, epecially given that her parents lived locally, and he'd been invited to their home on several occasions for dinner.

His parents had arrived on Saturday afternoon and, by Sunday afternoon, he'd received their approval, so tonight he was going to propose to Cindy at SeaWorld while the fireworks exploded overhead.

He had every moment planned out. The first part of the plan was, no matter how long his shipmates stayed, he needed to leave here no later than 1500 in order to drop off his parents before moving onto the next phase of his plan.

**ADMIRAL BAKER'S FIELD**

**1400**

The picnic had been well attended. There were about twenty men in the detachment, and most had come for at least a little while, but with dependents and visitors, there had been a crowd around the grill until all the hot dogs and hamburgers were gone by about 1300.

With the sun high in the sky over the picnic area and with no breeze to speak of, the day seemed like it was going to be one of the hottest Fourth of July's on record.

With the food depleting, the members began to seek shelter from the hot sun. Some moved from the picnic area to the pool, but some, like PO Bosworth, had decided that it was time to take his family home.

It was PO Lancaster who ran towards PO Bosworth's vehicle parked at the edge of the picnic area.

"Bosworth! Bosworth! Hey, Al," he yelled while waving his arms to get his attention.

PO Bosworth opened the door to the minivan, allowing his children to get in while he hollered back at Ron, "What?"

"The blue and white cooler ... they said that you left it. If you'll wait here, I'll go get it for you. I wasn't sure that I could catch you if I brought it along," Ron said before turning to run back to the picnic area.

Al yelled, "Don't worry about it, Ron. It had juice and snacks in it for the kids, but it's empty now. Do me a favor and just bring it in with you tomorrow. I'll take it off your hands after work."

"Okay, then, no problem," Ron hollered back before sprinting back to the picnic site.

Al looked at his wife. "He's a good guy. He's going to ask his girl to marry him tonight. I hope that she says yes. I'd hate to see him all broken up at work tomorrow."

**MINUTES LATER**

PO Ronald Lancaster put his friend's cooler in the trunk of his car so that he wouldn't forget it when he left to carry out his plans for that evening.

Ron turned to head back to his girl, a spring in his step from his building excitement about his plans, when his car exploded after he'd taken only a few steps away from the rear of the car. The blast sent debris flying in every direction.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME  
BEDTIME**

**MAC'S POV**

The girls thought that the boat was neat and are anxiously awaiting the first time when they get to go out to sea.

We're hoping to take them out into the harbor over the Labor Day weekend. It's a couple of months away, but it'll be the next time that SeaWorld or one of the other few venues that can get a permit for pyrotechnics will be shooting them off. We didn't want to sail anywhere until after we saw how the girls, especially our little Sami, fared on the boat. The other consideration was that the Fourth fell on a week night, and we didn't want to have the children out as late as they'd have to be to see the fireworks before school in the morning.

Frank and Trish thought that I looked tired after our morning on the boat, so they wanted to take Ty and Abigail to their house with them while Harm brought Sami and me home for a nap.

It was a good idea, because I felt better after my nap. I hadn't even realized that I was tired.

Once Sami and I woke from our nap, we headed over to the Burnett home for the barbeque. The food was good, as usual.

It was a big day for the children, and they were out as soon as their heads hit their pillows this evening, giving Harm and me extra time alone tonight.

Harm starts to undress, and I move over to him. "Have I told you lately that I think that you're a wonderful man?"

"No, I don't think that you've mentioned it lately," he replies while wrapping his arms around me.

"Well, you are," I say before stretching up to kiss him. He drops his head, meeting me part way, and our lips touch.

When our lips part, he asks, "Does this have anything to do with the talk that you were having with my mother this morning?"

"It might."

"What were the two of you talking about anyway? I felt like I interrupted an important conversation."

"I asked her if she thought that your father would've approved of me as a wife for his son. After she said that she was sure that he would have - though you might have had to endure some ribbing from him about marrying a Marine - she told me some of the qualities that you have that remind her of your father."

"I love you," he says before placing a quick kiss on my lips.

"You know ... I had a nap today. Care to prove that statement of love?"

"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Rabb."

I whisper I love you against his lips before our lips meet, and another day ends with us making love.

**MONDAY, JULY 9, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE **

**JLS **

**0900**

"I've been at work for an hour and ten minutes, and the only thing that I've accomplished is holding my Monday morning staff meeting," I say to myself out loud, though no one is in my office to hear me as I sit in my chair to begin the "rubber-stamping" that my job seems to have become.

"I hate Mondays," I mumble as I take a seat behind my desk to begin another day of reviewing reports between my trips to the ladies room.

I know that my sour mood doesn't have anything to do with my job, but rather Harm's job.

He was here on the Fourth of July and gone on the afternoon of the sixth, headed to some carrier to investigate a flight mishap - he'd been requested by the CAG 'because he had an understanding of flight ops, carrier duty and the law.'

********FLASHBACK********

**Friday, July 6, 2007**

**1000**

"Hey, Mac," Harm said so nicely over the phone that it should have been my first clue that I wasn't going to like this conversation.

"Hey yourself. To what do I owe the pleasure of this mid-morning call? Are you thinking about asking me to lunch?"

"I'd take you to lunch if I were going to be here."

"Where are you going to be?"

"I just hung up the phone after talking with General Cresswell. I'm headed out to the USS Constellation. There's been a mishap, and the CAG has asked for me by name to investigate."

"I see."

What else can I say? I don't like the fact that he's leaving, but it is his job. I can't stop him.

"I want you to know that the general asked how you were feeling. You know, asked if you could handle things while I was gone. I told him that your check-up yesterday went well...blood pressure and such were normal, so I thought that you'd be okay. You will, won't you?"

"Yes, I'll be fine, Harm. Just do me one favor."

"Anything."

"If they let you score some time in the cockpit, don't tell me about it until you get back," I say with a sigh.

"I can do that. I love you."

"How long do you think that you'll be gone?"

"I wouldn't think that it would be more than a few days...a week tops, but there's no way to know for sure. You know that."

"Good luck. I love you."

********END FLASHBACK********

'Yeah, he gets to have all the fun, investigating cases and running all over the world like we use to do together, while I'm stuck here in this office with a stack of papers that never gets smaller.'

I feel the baby kick, and it pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Maybe Mondays aren't so bad after all, right, baby girl?" I say as I pat my stomach where the baby just let me know that she's awake. "Now your daddy has me doing it."

I hadn't realized that, when I'd come into my office a few minutes ago, I'd left my door open ... until I hear PO Coates speaking from the doorway.

"Captain Rabb has you doing what, ma'am?"

I'm a little embarrassed that I've been caught talking to myself, but there isn't any point in offering a defense to Jennifer.

"He has me calling the baby she."

"You're having a girl, ma'am?"

"Harm says that we are, but he has no evidence to support his theory. I'm beginning to wonder if he's trying to use some kind of reverse psychology. You know, say that it's a girl, thinking that, if he makes everyone believe that it's a girl, it'll be a boy."

I snap out of my personal mind-wandering and get back into command mode.

"Did you need something, Petty Officer?"

"Yes, ma'am. I saw that your door was open, so I wanted to make sure that you were in here. General Cresswell is on line two for you, ma'am."

"Thank you, Petty Officer. Close the hatch on your way out, please."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

**TWELVE MINUTES LATER**

I buzz PO Coates at her desk and, when she picks up, I pass along information about my phone call to her.

"General Cresswell just informed me that the bombing at Admiral Baker's field on the Fourth will be a case handled by this office. I've also been informed that Lieutenant Vukovic will be arriving tomorrow afternoon to prosecute the accused petty officer. I'll need for you to arrange for him to have an office while he's here."

'Mondays really do stink! No Harm, and now I'm going to have to put up with Vukovic,' I think as I sigh and lean back in my chair.


	25. Chapter 25

**PART TWO **

**TUESDAY, JULY 10, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE **

**0930 **

**MAC'S POV**

The case that the general called about yesterday morning involves an explosion at Admiral Baker Field on the Fourth of July.

Though the incident happened on government owned property, that alone wouldn't have drawn much attention. However, the fact that, of the nine people injured, most were dependents or civilian guests of service men, it garnered more than a quick mention on the evening news. The combination of having civilian casualties and the media having a field day by speculating on every possible motive from an act of terrorism to career jealousy to post-traumatic stress disorder to explain the actions of the accused, PO Alfred Bosworth, has made this a high-profile case.

I didn't get an explanation from General Cresswell that really satisfied my curiosity about why he was sending Vukovic, but the fact is, he's coming. As a colonel talking to a general, I was hesitant to ask questions that might lead him to believe that I was questioning his judgment or his order to give Vukovic the space and resources that he needed while he was here to prosecute this case.

In my opinion, this case should be handled by a seasoned attorney or at least one more senior. Lt. Commander Bud Roberts' name pops into my mind first, but even Turner would have been a better choice than Vukovic.

'Mine is not to reason why. Mine is but to do or die...' That may be a slight variation of the famous poem's lines, but it applies to how I feel about this situation.

With the prosecutor decided for me, I spent a great deal of time yesterday considering who I'd put in the position to face off against Vukovic as defense counsel - without success, I might add.

If Vukovic requests an assistant to do research, make copies and phone calls, I decided to assign PO Coates to that task.

My two candidates were Coates and Lt. Graves. I picked Coates because she's been in a relationship for over a year now, and I hope that it'll render her immune to the charms that made most of the female staff at HQ swoon. Lt. Graves, on the other hand, has always had a crush on the brash, young attorney. Yes, Coates is definitely a better choice from a command perspective.

I yawn. I haven't been able to get much sleep. When I'm ready to go to bed, the baby seems to be awake, and vice versa.

I sure will be glad when Harm gets home.

Too bad that we aren't still at HQ together. Right now, if I were acting JAG with Harm under my command, I'd be putting him up against Vukovic. We could dub the trial 'the clash of the egos.'

I lean back in my chair and run through the attorneys who I have on staff here. My XO is a senior attorney, but someone who was given to me since Bud turned down my offer. I've never seen him in court. I don't know his style. I hear that he's pretty good, though.

The problem is that all of the attorneys in my office are pretty good, but I don't trust Vukovic to play nice, so I need to choose someone who's better than good. I need someone who'll do their duty above and beyond, taking into account all of the facts and even following up on their hunches to find the truth. Who do I know besides Harm who fills the bill?

Well, thanks to our mentoring, I think that Bud could do it, but he isn't on my staff. Wait a minute...our mentoring...why didn't I think of it before now...I know just the person to square off against Vukovic ... me!

I get a burst of energy at the thought of being in the courtroom against anyone again, but to show up Vukovic as a miltary equivalent of a civilian ambulance-chasing lawyer would give me just that much more satisfaction.

But I haven't argued a case since I took command of the JLS...oh my God, just three months shy of two years ago.

One of my concerns has to be the impact that my taking on this case would have on the JLS program and myself as a CO.

Since this is a high-profile case, if I flub it up, it could cast a shadow on my impeccable record as the first one to ever command a Joint Legal Services office.

I could retire with a black mark as the last entry in my record ... and worse yet is that, at some point, my name could be used as an example of a woman not being able to hold a command position with the same effectiveness as a man.

If I assign the case to someone else, whether they win or lose, I could still retire having completed my career as a good Marine.

There's also fairness to the defendant to be considered. My lack of recent work in the courtroom could cost him his freedom.

Perhaps I could make a better decision if I knew the client and his story better.

I buzz PO Coates at her desk. "Coates, get me a driver. I'm making a trip over to the brig this morning."

"Yes, ma'am. Right away."

**1020**

I come out of my office, briefcase and cover in hand, and PO Coates stands as protocol dictates.

"PO Coates, I'm on my way to speak with PO Bosworth. I probably won't be back before Lt. Vukovic arrives, so when he gets here, show him to his temporary office and see that you get a copy of the reports and pertinent case notes for the defense, and leave it on my desk...and tell him that I'll send for him when I return."

"Yes, ma'am."

**BRIG **

**1110**

The petty officer jumps to his feet as I enter the room.

"At ease," I say as I put my cover on the table and my briefcase in the chair before returning to having eye contact with him.

"Have a seat." If he's violent, he's less of a threat to me sitting down, so I want to make sure that he's sitting before I do.

"I'm Colonel MacKenzie." He's taken his seat. "Petty Officer Bosworth, I'm here to speak with you about the charges pending against you."

While I'm removing the legal pad and pen from my briefcase, he speaks.

"I didn't do it. I have no reason to hurt anyone. They said that my cooler exploded, but it couldn't have been mine. Mine had water and juice boxes in it...nothing that would explode."

I take a seat as I speak. "I haven't seen the prosecution's evidence against you yet. The file will be on my desk this afternoon. So, this morning, I just want to hear your side of the story. I'll be back tomorrow when I've had time to look over the case against you to talk about a defense strategy or to ask you more direct questions. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am, but there isn't much to tell. My detachment has been back from the Gulf for about five weeks. There's a tradition that, if we're home, we have a picnic on the Fourth of July with our families. It's the usual hot dog and hamburger cookout with our dependents, ma'am."

"So you and your family went to the picnic and you took a cooler. Why?"

"You know what those kinds of events are like, ma'am. They go the cheapest route, which means canned soda. My wife is diabetic and has dietary restrictions, but we like to go to these types of events that include our girls. My girls really enjoy playing with the other children. My wife likes to put faces to the names of the people I work with, and last year, she met a wife who became a close friend. They still keep in touch, but her husband was transferred about three months ago, and they don't see each other anymore, so she was looking forward to meeting someone else to hang out with."

"Back to the cooler...why did you bring it?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I've never been in any trouble before, ma'am. I know ... the cooler. Because my wife can't drink regular sodas, we bring a cooler when we attend one of these kinds of things. She brings a couple of the cans of diet soda that she can have, a few bottles of water and, because she's worried that our girls will get diabetes, she tries to keep them on a diet of healthier foods, so she brings them juice and usually some kind of healthy snack so they don't eat only junk food."

"Okay, you arrived at the picnic. What happened next?"

"We got there, and I unloaded the games that we'd brought for the kids and the cooler so we didn't have to run to the car every five minutes. I put the cooler under a tree near the grill so the cook could keep an eye on it. I introduced my wife to some of the new guys, and they introduced their wives or girls. We ate and had a really good time, but the day turned out to be really hot, and our children were getting cranky. Our youngest, who's three, was tired because she hadn't had a nap. We didn't want our children to ruin anyone else's fun, so we started to pack up to head home. I thought that I'd gotten everything, but, as I was getting the girls into the car, PO Lancaster caught up with me and told me that I'd forgotten the cooler. I asked him to bring it in with him to work the next day. Then I took my family home. I didn't know that anything had happened until I got into work the next morning."

I stand and start to slip my legal pad and pen into my briefcase. "I think that'll do it for now. I'm going back to my office to review the case file. I'll see you tomorrow when we'll go over the prosecution's evidence together."

"Yes, ma'am. I swear, I didn't do anything."

"We'll talk tomorrow, Petty Officer," I say before reaching for my cover and briefcase and leaving the room.

**1230**

I didn't want to face Vukovic on an empty stomach, so I had the duty driver take me from the brig to the chow hall on MCAS Miramar, the base that's next to my office.

After enjoying my lunch, I feel energized and ready to face Vukovic, so it's time to head back to the office.

**1245**

As I enter the building, I've got a nagging feeling that there's more to the story than my client told me. However, I also believe him. I don't think that he did it.

A couple of minutes later, I reach the bullpen and I'm immediately sorry that my current rank and position draws attention.

"Attention on deck!"

"Carry on," I say before putting my head down, trying to make it to my office without further fuss.

So much for slipping back into my office. I've got work to do, but the announcement of my arrival has the _enemy_ on my six.

Vukovic follows me into my office and waits for me to get behind my desk before speaking to me.

"Colonel, I wanted to say that it'll be nice working here with you."

Just hearing his voice makes me feel dirty.

I look across my desk at him. "Lieutenant, I see that the case file is here on my desk, excellent. I'll have a look at it, and we'll talk later."

"I also wanted to offer my congratulations on your promotion since we last saw each other."

The way he says 'saw each other,' he seems to be trying to infer that we were something more than colleagues, and even that word would be a stretch.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Is there anything else?"

"I'd like to ask when you'll be assigning defense counsel. I'd like to meet with opposing counsel to propose a deal as soon as possible."

"Oh, I've already assigned defense counsel, Lieutenant, but I'll need time to review the case file before I'm prepared to speak with you about it."

His mouth is agape.

'First point goes to MacKenzie'.

"You...Colonel? Why would you want to take on such an open and shut case? It's a waste of your time. Besides, I understand that you're retiring soon. Why would you want to go out with a loss on your record?"

"First, Lieutenant, I don't consider finding out the truth about what happened that day to be a waste of time ... and second, how I end my career is no concern of yours. That'll be all. Dismissed!"

I can tell that he wants to stay and say more, but thinks better of it.

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

He leaves my office, and I sit down heavily in my chair. That didn't go too badly.

I lean back in my chair and hear our Lamaze class teacher say..."Take deep, cleansing breaths." Our first class was last Thursday.

The first breath doesn't help me relax because my mind has me wondering if Harm will be back in time to go to our second Lamaze class this Thursday.

I push that concern out of my mind and take a second cleansing breath.

After two more cleansing breaths, I'm ready to get to work. I open the file and begin to read.

**1500**

I walk out of my office. "Coates, I'm going -"

"- Ladies room, ma'am?"

"Yes. I need for you to find Lt. Vukovic. Tell him that I've reviewed the file and that he should report to my office, ASAP."

"Yes, ma'am."

**1515**

My intercom buzzes. "Yes, Coates?"

"Lt. Vukovic is here to see you, ma'am."

"Send him in."

A moment later, he's coming through my door.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant," I say as he crosses the room to stand in front of my desk.

"I'd rather stand, ma'am."

"Probably best, because you won't be staying long. Your case is circumstantial. It won't matter what kind of deal that you're offering. My recommendation to my client will be to decline it."

"Colonel, I think that you're making a mistake. Once the members hear the testimony of those injured, I'll win. Have your client take the deal. It'll be better for both of you."

"I'd watch your tone with me, Lieutenant, because that sounded kind of like a threat to me."

"I wasn't threatening you, ma'am. I was just thinking that, given your current condition, perhaps a court battle with me isn't in your best interest. I was merely trying to protect your interests, Colonel."

My first thought is to take him out now, but winning this case will be a sweeter victory.

"So, what's your offer, Lieutenant? I'll present it to my client when I see him tomorrow."

**1600**

I'm glad that my workday has come to an end. I'm looking forward to going home and seeing my children.

Ty and Mattie have been through a separation like this from Harm before, but the girls haven't.

Mattie's finals are coming up fast, and she's too preoccupied with her last few weeks of high school and her pending move back to Blacksburg to attend Virginia Tech to worry about Harm. I'm sure that, if this trip lasts too long and she fears that he won't be here to see her graduate or send her off to college, it'll be a different story.

Ty misses Harm, but doesn't doubt that he'll return, which I believe is Sami's fear. Ty also has Frank, and that helps. Frank has come by every evening after dinner to check on me and the children. He says that he just wants to make sure that his grandchildren are okay, but I think that Harm probably had something to do with the _daily_ visits, and I'd probably fuss at Harm about it when he calls, but the visits really seem to lift Ty's spirits. Of course, if I was in Ty's position - he's the only guy around the house with Harm gone - I might feel the same way.

Abigail doesn't seem to be affected by Harm's absence until bedtime. I've seen her stare over in the corner at his guitar. She really misses him playing her a song each night. She does take the phone when he calls so that he can tell her good night, but the music seems to be the key to their relationship. I hope that he doesn't have to start back at square one with her when he gets back.

Sami is the opposite of Abigail. She misses Harm like crazy. The first thing that she'll say to me when I get home is, "Hi, Mommy. When Daddy coming home?" I don't know if Sami's afraid that Harm will never come home or that he'll miss her birthday on Thursday or the cake and ice cream party on Saturday. I can't say that I understand the mindset of a three-year-old yet - even if it is a girl's mind.

I think that the baby misses Harm, too. When I lie down at night, it takes only a few minutes before the baby starts to do somersaults or kick-boxing in my stomach. I think that she, if Harm is correct, misses his hand covering her.

I pat my belly. "It could be that Momma misses Daddy being next to her at night, and that's keeping me from getting a good night's sleep, huh?"

I didn't realize that pregnancy made you talk to yourself, but I've been doing a lot of it today.

"Of course, since I found out yesterday that Vukovic was coming, talking to myself so much today could be his fault."

The baby kicks.

"You think that it's his fault, too, do you?" I smile. "I agree. It's definitely his fault," I say as I pick up my things and head for my office door. We're calling it a day.


	26. Chapter 26

**PART THREE **

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 11, 2007**

**JLS**

**0755**

**MAC'S POV**

After getting the children into bed last night, I read over the case file once more before attempting to get some sleep.

I'm eager and ready to get to work on the case this morning, but I have to attend to command business first or I would've gone straight to the brig to meet with my client.

Coates stands as I approach her desk. "Good morning, Petty Officer," I say as I reach her desk and stop to wait for her to respond before I give her an assignment.

After giving her instructions to locate Lt. Graves and have her report to my office, I walk into my office feeling that there are just too many holes in the prosecution's case for me to believe that PO Bosworth is responsible for the explosion that injured nine.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**0810**

I hear a knock on my door and I assume that it's Coates or Graves. "Enter."

The door opens, and it isn't either one of them. It's Vukovic.

"Coates, isn't at her desk, Colonel, but I wanted to apologize to you for yesterday. When we spoke, I didn't know that Captain Rabb was away."

I know that I shouldn't respond to his statement because it will only give him the opportunity to get under my skin, but I ask anyway.

"What does my husband being gone on an assignment have to do with the case?"

"Nothing with the case, but it could be skewing your judgment. He's out on a carrier, investigating a mishap and probably flying while you're here sitting behind a desk ... not very exciting. Taking this case gives you a chance to experience a little excitement. It isn't that I don't understand that, but I think that you should reconsider taking the case."

I knew that, whatever his response was, it would get me worked up, but I need to stay professional and keep my cool. I stand.

"I can assure you that being pregnant while having four other children at home gives me enough excitement. I took the case because I'm the best qualified. I assume that you're finished with your pretrial mind games with opposing counsel now, so you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," he says before turning on his heel and leaving.

He opens my office door and almost collides with Lt. Graves, who steps aside to let him exit before she enters my office.

"Colonel MacKenzie, Coates said that you wanted to see me, ma'am."

"Yes, Lieutenant, I need someone to do some legwork for me on a case."

"The case that Lt. Vukovic is here to prosecute, ma'am?"

"I see that there's nothing wrong with the grapevine around here. Yes, that case."

She had that dreamy-eyed look on her face when she mentioned his name, so I have to ask.

"I need to ask you something first. Is there anything between you and Lt. Vukovic? I wouldn't want you to feel that you were splitting your loyalties."

"Ma'am, there's nothing between Lt. Vukovic and me. What do you need for me to do, Colonel?"

**BRIG**

**0940**

I'm seated and ready to go to work when they finally bring PO Bosworth into the interview room to meet with me.

"Ma'am."

"Have a seat, Petty Officer. We have a lot of things to go over."

I know that I sound in a rush, but after this morning in the office, I now have a better understanding of how much work it's going to be to balance being a CO while I work this case and try to do it without giving up any family time.

"Yes, ma'am. Where do we start?" he says as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the table."

"First, I'll tell you that the prosecution has offered you a deal, but before I can advise you as to whether or not it's in your best interest to take the deal, I want to go over their case with you."

"Yes, ma'am, whatever you think is best. I have just one request. Tell it to me simple, ma'am. No legal talk. I'm not able to think in here."

"Then here it is. They say that you brought the cooler to the picnic with the intent to kill or, at minimum, cause bodily injury to a Petty Officer First Class Donald King because you're both up for chief, and you believe that it's more likely that he'll be selected than you. They say that's why you placed the cooler containing the explosive material by the grill, because PO King was cooking that day. They say that you intentionally left the cooler behind so that you wouldn't be present when it exploded, thus endangering you or your family. PO Lancaster tried to get you to take the cooler, but you were able to play it off and still leave the cooler behind. They say that it was PO Lancaster who botched your plan. You didn't anticipate him putting the cooler in his car right after you left and it exploding in his trunk." He's shaking his head as I finish. "What is it, Petty Officer?"

"Ma'am, the way you told their theory, I sound guilty even to me. I know that it doesn't look good, but I didn't do it."

"Do you have a problem with PO King?" I ask.

"Not a problem, ma'am. We both know what we're doing when it comes to aircraft and, with the selection board for chief coming up, we do try to show up each other at work sometimes because it is a tight race. He's three months senior to me, and we're pretty even on Fit Reps. It's a friendly competition to earn an extra brownie point or two that might sway the board. I don't dislike the guy, but now that this has happened ... I guess I can see how we made each other strive to be better at work, but how it also brought out some of our aggressive tendencies as well. Have you ever known someone who brought out the best and the worst in you at the same time?"

I put my hand on my belly in response to his question. No one made me a better lawyer by challenging me in the courtroom or could get me to show my aggressive side like Harm. I don't think that he'd want to hear, 'Yeah, and he's the father of this baby.' So, I offer a nod of understanding to his question before continuing to go through the aspects of the case.

"They still have a team combing Admiral Baker's Field for fragments large enough for them to piece more of the story together, but, in the meantime, that means that their case doesn't have any physical evidence to support it. The case is based on the circumstantial evidence that a cooler - that someone identified as yours - exploded moments after it was put into the trunk of a car. Your motive and even the identification of the cooler as yours is based on witness statements. That isn't an easy case for the prosecution to prove. Now, I haven't interviewed any of the witnesses yet, but I'll be doing that in the next couple of days. The prosecution didn't put a time limit on the deal that he offered, but it could be withdrawn at any time without warning, so I want to tell you what the offer is before I leave today."

"Ma'am, it doesn't matter what the deal is. I brought juice and water for my wife and girls. To me, taking a deal would make it look like I was saying that I did it ... that I was responsible for those people being hurt. I didn't do it. I don't want to take a deal, ma'am. Can you understand that?"

"Yes, Petty Officer, I understand your position. Now, we've got work to do. We're going to go over everything in the file a page at a time. We've talked about your relationship with PO King, but is there anyone else with whom he might have had a problem?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am. Do you think that he was the intended target?"

"I don't know, but there is some logic in assuming that no one knew that you were going to leave without your cooler or that PO Lancaster was going to agree to transport it to work the next day for you. Since the cooler was setting near PO King, he seems to be a logical target. Another scenario is that someone heard PO Lancaster agree to take the cooler for you and placed the explosive material in there when they knew that he was going to be taking it, making him the target. Yet another scenario is that you were the intended victim ... that the explosive was put in the cooler under the assumption that you'd have possession of it when it exploded. Do you have any enemies? Has anyone threatened you or a family member, even if you thought nothing of it at the time?"

"No, ma'am."

"Have you had a shipmate, a neighbor or anyone else borrow the cooler recently?"

"No, ma'am."

"When you put your cooler by the grill, do you remember if there were any other coolers there?"

"Yes, ma'am. There were four, I think. The food was already there."

"Any of them blue and white like yours?"

"I don't recall, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"I understand that PO Lancaster is still in the hospital, so I'll see about speaking with him this afternoon. The interviews will take time, so you may not see me for a couple of days, but don't panic. I just won't have anything new to ask or inform you about. If you think of something, they'll let you call your lawyer."

I get up, and it feels good to change position. I give him my card with my number on it and put away my notes.

"Do you have any questions for me before I go?"

"How long do you think it'll be until I get out of here, ma'am?"

"Based on the severity of the charges, they won't let you out of here until the case is resolved. How long will that be? There's no way to tell how long it'll take to get through it. It's a process that takes time. I know that it doesn't sound very encouraging, but I won't waste any time. I'll have you out of here as soon as I can. I'm sorry that I can't offer you a better answer, Petty Officer."

"It's okay, ma'am. I understand ... and the way you said it, I think that you believe me, and that makes me feel better."

"I do believe you, and it's my job to prove it. Try not to worry. I'll see you again when I have some answers ... and remember, if you think of anything, give me a call."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1430**

I've taken out my notes and plopped down in my chair.

It feels good to be off my feet. I don't recall running an investigation as being this tiring before.

I look over my notes from my visit with PO Lancaster. I had great timing because his release from the hospital was being processed when I arrived. Not only was it fortunate that I caught him, but it also gave me a chance to talk with his girlfriend, Cindy Collins, now his fiancée, who was one of the two civilians who were injured.

PO Lancaster supported PO Bosworth. He didn't believe that Al was the kind of guy who'd hurt anyone. He didn't think that PO King was the type to want to hurt anyone either. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone who'd want to hurt anyone there. The part of his statement that really stands out to me is: "Colonel, things might get a little heated around the shop now and then between us, but it blows over. It's kind of like having brothers and sisters. I have two of each. We don't always get along, and my brothers and I have even had a wrestling match or two over the years, but we wouldn't hurt each other. By the same token, if someone else hurt one of us, they'd have to answer to the rest of us. That's the way it is around the shop. We don't always agree, but we wouldn't try to blow each other up. Both PO King and PO Bosworth have children. I think that either of them would be capable of hurting someone to protect their country, their wife or their kids, but to risk hurting children to hurt each other, I don't see it happening. It takes a person who's a little 'off,' if you know what I mean, to hurt children."

Miss Collins said that it all happened so fast that she wasn't really sure what had happened. She remembered that Ron had been acting a little strange all day, so she'd followed him to the car. She'd asked him why he was acting funny, and he'd told her that he wasn't acting any differently than usual. He just wanted to make sure that he didn't forget the cooler when they left in a little while. She'd said okay and started back towards the picnic area. She said that it was about thirty seconds later when she heard the blast, and a second later, it felt like her arm was on fire. She said that she felt the burn and she knew that the blast had come from behind her, so she turned to look and saw that Ron was down on the ground and that the back of the car was on fire. She said that the only thing that she remembered thinking after that was that Ron was dead. It wasn't until medical help arrived that she found out that a piece of debris had punctured her skin and was stuck in the back of her arm. Before concluding our conversation, she let me know that she now knew why Ron had been acting strangely that day. He'd been worried about his plans to propose that evening. When she'd seen him after his surgery, the first thing that he'd done was to tell her what his plan had been for that night, and then he'd proposed. She showed me the ring. She's very happy.

I yawn. I could really use a nap, but I don't have time. I need to keep working on this.

**1445**

I hear a knock on my door. I'm not in the mood for another Vukovic visit, so I hope that it's Coates. "Enter."

I'm not sure who it is at first, because my eyes fall on the beautiful mixed bouquet of flowers that they're carrying.

"Are you all right, Colonel?" Coates asks with concern.

"Yes, Coates, I'm fine."

"These flowers just came for you, ma'am," she says as she sets the vase on the corner of my desk.

"Thank you."

"Can I get you anything? You look a little flushed, ma'am."

"I'm fine." I see the concern in her eyes. " Really, I'm just a little tired."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to read your card, ma'am." She turns to leave, but stops after only a step and turns back to face me. "You will let me know if there's anything that I can do for you, won't you, Colonel?"

"You're concern is appreciated, but I'm fine ... and yes, if there's anything that you can do, I'll let you know, Jennifer."

She smiles brightly. "Thank you, ma'am," she says before turning around and leaving my office.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. There really is something to this 'cleansing breath' thing I think before I reach for the card.

I'm sure that the flowers are from Harm, but I open the card with some degree of apprehension concerning the reason why he sent them.

The card reads: No call tonight, I'm traveling. I should be home by Friday. Love, Harm

I smile, but it's short lived when it dawns on me that he said by Friday, which means that he won't make it to our childbirth class tomorrow night. That isn't something that I was in the mood to hear at the moment.

On the other hand, he'll be home soon ... and the even better news is, I'll be able to answer Sami's question tonight.

However, I'm not sure that the news that her daddy won't be home_ on _her birthday will be the news that she wants to hear. Of course, the fact that he'll be home for her birthday celebration on Saturday may make the news okay.

**RABB HOME**

**1640**

I don't make it more than a few steps into the living room before Sami greets me. "Hi, Mommy. When Daddy coming home?"

"Go get your sisters and brother and come into the kitchen, and I'll tell you while we make dinner."

**KITCHEN **

**MINUTES LATER**

I've had time to say goodbye to Sofia, the nanny, before the children come into the kitchen, ready to make dinner while they hear when Harm is coming home, but I just don't have the energy to cook tonight. So I first ask if there are any objections to us ordering pizza and having it delivered.

After a unanimous child vote for pepperoni pizza, I place a call to order it. I know that, if I tell them when Harm is coming home before I get on the phone, I won't be able to hear with all the cheering that's going on.

I hang up the phone.

"Okay, now for the last order of business. Daddy won't be calling tonight. He's traveling. He couldn't tell me exactly when, but he said that he'll be home by Friday."

Most of them look happy to hear the news, but not Sami. "He gonna miss my birthday," Sami says with a pout.

"It looks like he won't be here for your real birthday tomorrow, but he'll be here for your party on Saturday," I say, hoping that it'll cheer her up.

"My party is a long time away," Sami says, her lower lip quivering slightly.

As tired as I feel tonight, I have to agree with her. It does seem like a long time away.

"It isn't that far away ... tomorrow's your birthday, the next day Daddy will be home, and then the next day is your party," I say as I bend over to give her a comforting hug, which does seem to help some because I get a tiny smile from her.

**AFTER DINNER**

I know that I must look as tired as I feel when Mattie volunteers to supervise the after-dinner clean up, the evening family activity and bath time so that I can lie down and rest for a little bit.

Since Mattie's been buried in her school work lately, she hasn't been spending much time with her siblings. With the younger children all smiles at the prospect of having time with their big sister, I can see that it's something that they all really want, and I'm so tired that I agree. So I leave Mattie in charge and head to my room.

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

I feel a tap on my shoulder before I hear a soft female voice. "Mac, Sami doesn't want me to tuck her in."

My eyes open to see that it's Mattie talking to me, but my mind is still in a sleepy haze.

"I figured that, since she misses Harm so much, I should get you to tuck her in. I'm sorry that I had to wake you," Mattie says apologetically.

I sit up straight, and the quickness of the movement from prone to sitting causes me to become a little lightheaded, keeping me from jumping to my feet.

"No, don't be sorry. I was planning just to rest. I don't know why I fell asleep. You've done so much tonight already. I'll put the kids to bed."

"Are you all right, Mac?"

My dizziness has passed, so I feel confident when I say, "I'm fine. I just sat up too quickly."

I stand. "Are you sure that you want to go away to college? You could still change your mind and go to a local university. You're a big help around here. I'm going to miss that and you taking those famous, or should I say infamous candid pictures every ten seconds," I say with a chuckle before I turn serious again. "I didn't realize that I was so tired. The nap helped. Thank you." I pull her into a hug. "I really am going to miss having you around here," I say to her before I break the hold that I have on her.

I get to the doorway, headed for the girls' room when Mattie speaks again.

"I'm going to miss being here. It's the first time in a very long while that I've felt like I had a mom and dad. Being with my father isn't going to be the same." I see a tear roll down her cheek.

I move back to her. Each of my hands grabs one of hers and I look her in the eye.

"You may not be living here in this house with us, but you'll always be our daughter and welcome here or wherever we are ... anytime. We aren't going to quit being your mom and dad just because you aren't living here, you know." Now I'm crying, too.

"Aren't we supposed to do this the day that I actually leave?" Mattie says, trying to force herself to smile.

"Probably," I say with a chuckle.

"You'd better go get Sami tucked in," she says, regaining her composure.

"Yeah," I reply, smiling at her.

I hug Mattie once more before leaving to go tuck in Sami and begin the nightly reading routine with Abigail and Ty so that I can get everyone to bed.


	27. Chapter 27

**PART FOUR **

**THURSDAY, JULY 12, 2007**

**MAC'S POV**

Once I got the children tucked in last night, I read over the case again. That nagging feeling that I was missing something that's staring me in the face kept me up, looking over crime scene pictures and reading through the file for the umteenth time until I drifted off for thirty-one minutes before the alarm went off, signaling that it was time to get up and start a new day.

I made Sami's favorite thing for breakfast, pancakes, because it's her birthday, but I don't think that it helped to cheer her up. She misses Harm. I hate to see our little girl so sad, especially on her birthday, so I'm not sure which one of us is looking forward to him coming home more...Sami or me.

After breakfast, the nanny arrived, and I drove to the office to make sure that command business was taken care of before being out in the field for most of the day.

While at the office, I enlisted Lt. Graves' help. I assigned her to interview several people, including the other injured civilian - he'd been on the other side of his son's car when the car next to it, PO Lancaster's car, had exploded. I also asked her to go to HC-17 and ask around about the tension between PO Bosworth and PO King, and to go to the HC-17 admin office to see if there's been any threats, no matter how vague, to the command, Det. 10 or anyone in the command.

Lt. Graves and I met back at the office at 1500. Our meeting lasted until 1550, and then I left the office at 1555, still carrying that nagging feeling that I was missing something that should be obvious.

I lectured myself by saying things like: 'You shouldn't have taken this case. You've been out of the courtroom too long. You're going to get this guy sent to Leavenworth if you don't figure out what's missing,' until I pulled into the driveway at home.

Still sitting in the car, I tell myself, 'I have to put that case out of my mind now. It's time to switch gears. My assignment now is to go to Lamaze class and take notes for my absent husband.'

**RABB HOME**

I get in the door and head to our bedroom to change clothes. It's nice that the house is quiet. The reason for the quiet is because all of our children are at Harm's parents.

********FLASHBACK********

June 24, 2007 - Sunday after Father's Day

It was a warm afternoon, and the children were on the deck eating a slice of watermelon as a mid-afternoon snack while Trish, Frank, Harm and I looked on through the sliding glass doors from chairs around the table in the kitchen nook, thankful to be in the air conditioned house.

Trish was very cautious when she spoke, "We were wondering ... with the baby coming soon ... if you've thought about getting away for a weekend ... you know ... alone?"

"Yes, but, with appointments every two weeks to monitor my blood pressure, trying to get the nursery ready and the fact that we just got the situation with the girls settled, there doesn't seem to be a good time to get away," I answer.

"We were just curious because, as you know, I used to pick up Tyler after school, and we'd hang out. I miss having him around," Frank says before Trish takes over.

"And we aren't getting a chance to get to know our granddaughters at all. So we were just hoping that we were going to get the chance to have them all to ourselves for at least a weekend." Trish pauses for a moment. "Speaking of our granddaughters, I've been meaning to ask you. Given Abigail's performance last week, have you considered arranging for her to have piano lessons?" Trish asks casually.

"We have, but we haven't worked out anything yet," I answer.

"May I ask what stumbling blocks you've encountered?" Trish looks at Frank and smiles. "Maybe Frank and I can help you work out something while the kids are finishing up their snack."

"Well, there's the matter of a piano for starters. We've just started to shop for the nursery, so I don't know if a piano is in the budget right now, or the lessons, for that matter. I know that most teachers give lessons in their home, using their piano, but that poses another set of issues. The nanny shuttles the children to and from school, but we aren't sure that we want her traveling around town with them to take Abigail back and forth for her lessons. That may sound paranoid or overprotective concerning the travel, but we also have to consider that Abigail would have to go into a stranger's house. We aren't sure that Abigail would be comfortable in that situation, and the point of having her take the lessons is so that she can enjoy learning to play the piano," Harm answers.

"It's only my first thought, but I have an idea that might work well, and it addresses several of those issues," Trish says with a huge smile. Her starting this "casual conversation" wasn't so casual after all.

"And what is this brilliant spur of the moment solution that you've just come up with, Mom?" Harm asks with a cocked eyebrow, letting his mother know that we know that we've been set up.

Trish is trying to play off being 'caught' by continuing in her casual tone. "What if Frank picks the children up from school one day a week and brings them here? I have a piano, and Abigail could have her lesson here that afternoon while Frank gets some time with Ty. Mattie could bring Sami over after she gets home from school, and they can all have dinner with us. We'd get some time to see all of our grandchildren, and the two of you would have an evening alone. With Mattie going away to school soon, the children may end up spending a night or two with us while Mac's in the hospital having the baby. While Mattie's still here, she can take the children home before it's time for their bath. Then maybe next month when school is out, we could have them sleep over a few times, working up to a weekend so the two of you can get away before Mac has the baby." Suddenly, Trish looks terrified. "You were planning to let them stay with us when Mac has the baby, weren't you?"

"Yes, Mom, we plan to let them stay with you," Harm says, slightly amused at his mother's worry about us not wanting to let the children stay with them overnight.

"We wouldn't trust anyone except their grandparents," I say with a smile.

"Since I have the distinct impression that you've already found an instructor and arranged for lessons, tell us, which day do you want to pick them up and starting when?" Harm asks.

"Thursdays...this coming Thursday," Frank says with a smile.

"Wait a minute," I say, bringing everyone's attention back to me. Abigail will still need a piano to practice on during the week.

Trish smiles and says, "I thought of that, too. I bought an inexpensive keyboard that she can use to practice on at home.

********END FLASHBACK********

I've changed clothes, so I stop for a moment to take a deep breath and check my internal clock, 1645. I have an hour and fifteen minutes until class. That should give me enough time to stop to get something to eat and get to class before 1800, even if traffic is heavy.

I'd stay here for a few more minutes to review my notes that I took during my meeting with Graves, but I skipped lunch today, so I need to eat something.

I'm headed for the door when I remember that I need to take a notepad. I have to take notes tonight because Harm isn't going to be there. After grabbing an unused notepad from my desk in the den, I'm headed out the front door and almost run over Mattie.

"Mattie, what are you doing here?"

"I forgot my laptop. Grandma said that I had time to come over and get it before dinner, but not to dally because dinner was going to be on the table at five thirty. Are you okay, Mac?"

"Yes, I'm just feeling a little rushed. Because I'm traveling to class during rush hour, the normally twenty-minute drive could take anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, so I just feel like I'm running a little late in order to be on time."

"Well, you'd better get going then. Be careful," she says as I turn to head to the car.

"I will ... you, too, " I say over my shoulder as I walk away.

**RABB HOME**

**1655**

**HARM'S POV**

I get my key into the lock, not expecting anyone to be home, but the door isn't locked. Maybe Mac decided not to go to class without me. I look at my watch. We have an hour to get there. We can still make it.

"Mac...Mac, I'm home," I call out as I move towards our bedroom where I hope to find her.

I start down the hall, and Mattie pops out of her bedroom. "Hey, Harm, Mac isn't here. She left for class about ten minutes ago."

"I wasn't expecting her to be here, but I was hoping to catch her before she left so that we could go together."

"I wish that you'd been here so that you could've driven. She's working on a case and she's really tired. Well, maybe it isn't the case alone, but I'm worried about her."

"She took a case?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at your grandparents?"

"I forgot my laptop, so I came home to get it. That's when I bumped into Mac. I was on my way back there now."

"Are you up for a drive-thru dinner?"

"Anytime ... what did you have in mind?"

"Let me get changed and call your grandparents, and then I'll tell you in the car."

"Okay."

**OUTSIDE BUILDING THREE**

**BALBOA HOSPITAL**

**1750**

**MAC'S POV**

I know that Harm wouldn't approve of my drive-thru dinner, but I've got it covered as I ball up the wrappers and bag and throw them in the trash can outside the building. He'll never know now because I just got rid of the evidence.

I pull on the door handle to the building, and a belch escapes. I wish that I hadn't had onions on my burger. They aren't agreeing with me.

I head to the elevator. The classroom where they hold the childbirth class is on the second floor.

**ROOM 209**

**1758**

Our instructor has asked those of us who are there to find a seat so that we can begin on time.

The seats are set up in groups of two with gaps between each group. The instructor's table is sitting at high noon, and the chairs make a semi-circle that stretch from three o'clock to nine o'clock.

I finally take a seat about where five o'clock should be.

**1800**

We're all seated, and the instructor begins. "Last week, we introduced ourselves and talked about the parts of pregnancy that most of you have already experienced. We also talked about what you should expect in the third trimester and we practiced one of the basic parts of natural childbirth, the cleansing breath. Well, tonight we're going to do a review of the information about the final stage of your pregnancy before we talk about the stages of labor. First, let's all take a deep cleansing breath in ... and let it out... One more to get all the work and traffic stuff out to make room for the baby information ... very good. Now, since this is only our second class, why don't we go around the room and introduce ourselves again...just remind us of your name for those of us who take a couple of times to hear it in order to match it to a face."

"My name is Tina."

"I'm Tina's husband, John."

As the next few people state their names, I think, 'I'm glad that she started on the other side of the room, but it still won't make it any less embarrassing when she finally does get to me, and I don't have a husband. Thank God this isn't my first class. Harm was here last week, so they know that I'm not alone.'

It's my turn. "I'm Sarah."

The last four people state their names.

"If your coach isn't able to attend the classes regularly, you may want to consider having a back up plan. Most women feel comfortable with their mother, a sister or close friend filling in for the baby's father in the delivery room. Some of you may want to consider having a second person take classes as a back up coach in case your preferred coach isn't able to be with you on the big day," the instructor says.

**1806**

As the instructor looks down to examine her notes, I feel self conscious. I know that she was directing her comments at me, even if she didn't use my name. I wish I could sink into the floor and disappear.

She hasn't lifted her head from her notes before she begins to speak. "Now to review..."

The instructor's words are filtered out when I momentarily become distracted by a shadow that's cast over me. I turn my head to see Harm slipping into the seat next to me. I'm so happy to see him that I almost shed tears.

"I see you made it. Very good," the instructor says from the front of the room.

Harm looks up. "Sorry to be a little late, but traffic was terrible."

Harm looks over at me and reaches for my hand. He grasps it firmly and offers me a smile before we turn our attention back to the instructor.

**OUTSIDE OF BUILDING THREE**

**1935**

We reach the building doors, and Harm pushes the door open and holds it to allow both myself and another woman from our class and her husband to exit before he comes out and once again takes my hand. That's the way it's been for most of the past ninety minutes, my hand in his.

"Where is your car parked?" I ask Harm as another couple from our class passes by us.

"I didn't drive. I saw Mattie at the house and had her drop me off."

"I must have just missed you then...but that means that Mattie missed dinner."

"Why do you think I was late? I stopped to get her something to eat - sometimes fast food isn't fast enough for you to get to where you want to be on time."

I reach in my purse to pull out my keys. "Then follow me. The van is this way. You can drive me home, Sailor," I say before handing him my keys.

**MINUTES LATER**

Harm uses the electronic key fob to unlock the minivan as we approach it. He's every bit the gentlemen. He walks me to the passenger side of the car and opens my door, but he stands in the way so I can't get in. His reason is obvious when he pulls me to him.

"I'll drive you home after I've given you a proper hello." His lips descend on mine, and the kiss that he administers is loving and tender.

When our lips part, he says, "Now we can go home. If traffic isn't too bad, we may get home in time for me to wish Sami a happy birthday before she's asleep. We should definitely be home in time for me to play a song for Abigail and tuck in Ty," he says as he moves to let me get into the van.

Once I'm in the van, he moves quickly to the other side and gets in. After he puts the key in the ignition, he looks at me as he starts the car. "Did I understand Mattie correctly? You, personally, have taken a case?"

"You understood."

I spend the next few minutes telling Harm all about Vukovic being sent here to prosecute the case and about him hiring an actor to be a witness on a case while we were at HQ that made me feel that I was the best choice for going up against him on this case.

After defending myself for not throwing the book at Vukovic for the 'actor as a witness' incident, I tell Harm about my case, including the nagging feeling that I have that I'm not seeing something that's probably so blatantly staring me in the face that, if it were a snake, it would've bitten me the first day.

Harm is sympathetic to my feelings and offers me the story of how he felt about taking that case for Senator Proxmeyer after a time out of the courtroom because of his command position in London. He ends his story with, "You know what I learned from that experience - that investigating and being in court is like riding a bicycle. You don't forget how to do it. Vukovic is just messing with your head, but he didn't need to. Your mind would've thrown up caution flags and doubts on its own. Once you get a good night's sleep, you'll see things more clearly."

He drives for a few minutes in silence, but then he adds, "You can bounce theories off of me the way that I've been doing lately with you on my cases. Mac, you're a very good lawyer. You'll figure this out."

I reach for his hand. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me, too."

I spend the rest of our drive home giving Harm the highlights of my case.

**RABB HOME**

**2002**

I unlock the door and hear the faint sound of the TV coming from the living room.

Harm closes the door behind us, and we make our way towards the sound. The TV is on, but we don't see any children in the room until I make my way to the remote sitting on the coffee table. That's when I see Sami on the couch, curled up with her ladybug nap blanket and her bunny. She looks like she's almost asleep.

"Sami..." I say quietly, not wanting to startle her. Harm stops just behind the couch so that Sami doesn't see him when I say her name. "What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Harm is patiently waiting for a cue to make a surprise appearance.

"Mattie said that I could stay up later 'cuz it's my birthday. Mommy, when Daddy coming home?" Sami asks sleepily.

"I think he flew on a really fast plane just so he could wish you a happy birthday before you went to sleep," I say as Harm comes around the end of the couch.

Sami squeals at the sight of him, "Daddy!"

Harm laughs as he scoops up his excited little girl. Sami's arms wrap around his neck, and she's holding onto him for dear life. "Happy birthday, Ladybug."

I leave Harm alone with Sami so that they can both relish in his homecoming for a moment while I go in search of our other children.

I find Mattie, and she tells me that Abigail is in the bathroom. She's just finished her bath and is putting on her pajamas. Ty is in his room getting his pajamas out and getting ready for his turn in the bathroom.

Mattie also explains that she told Sami that it was a birthday treat so that she wouldn't expect to stay up this late every night, but that she had two reasons for letting Sami stay up. One was that Grandma had given them all cupcakes in honor of it being Sami's birthday for dessert right before she brought them home, and Sami was pretty wound up, so Mattie didn't think that she'd be able to get her to bed for a little while without a fight. The second reason was that she'd hoped that Harm and I wouldn't make any stops on the way home so that Sami could see Harm before her official birthday was over. Mattie said that seeing her daddy was going to be the best birthday present in the world for Sami. Mattie also said that she hadn't told the kids that Harm was back because she didn't think that she could handle their excitement without reinforcements, so all the children were going to be surprised to see Harm.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2055 **

Abigail seemed happy to see Harm, but he had to ask her if it was all right to give her a hug, a direct contrast to Ty who charged Harm and wrapped his arms around his neck when Harm bent over to catch him.

After seeing Ty's reaction to his return, Harm said that he'd handle Ty's tucking in alone tonight.

Once I'd kissed Abigail good night and had left Harm to play her a song, I came into our room to wait for him, but after changing into a nightgown, I couldn't help myself...I pulled out the case file that's been eating away at my gut for the last couple of days. What am I missing?

It's 2055 when Harm comes into our bedroom and sees my notes and the case file scattered across our bed.

"I thought that you'd come in here to get ready for bed and start to relax for that good night's sleep that we were going to get tonight. I didn't think that you'd be in here working," he says as he starts to walk towards the bed.

"I'd wanted to look over this stuff before I went to class tonight, but I didn't think that I'd have time. Of course, it turns out that, if I'd taken the time to look it over, I would've seen you sooner."

He reaches my side of the bed and then leans over like he's going to kiss me, but he stops before his lips reach mine.

"If it had happened like that, neither one of us might have made it to class," he says quietly before kissing me.

When he pulls his lips from mine, he says, "I haven't had a shower since I started traveling home about thirty-six hours ago. So why don't you look over your case while I take a shower, and then, when I get through, we'll get some sleep."

"That sounds wonderful, but you're going to have to talk the baby into sleeping. Your baby hasn't wanted to sleep at night while you've been gone ... and the baby has been very active since she heard your voice earlier tonight."

Harm laughs. "Well, she and I will have a talk when I get out of the shower." He bends down, gives my cheek a peck and gently pats my belly before heading to our bathroom.

**TEN MINUTES LATER**

Harm comes out of the bathroom wearing only pajama bottoms and makes short work of the distance between us as he speaks. "Time to close up shop, Mrs. Rabb. Maybe something will come to you in your sleep."

I start to pick up my notes first. The pictures of the scene are scattered on his side of the bed. He can hand them to me, and it'll make it easier for me.

As if he can read my mind, he starts to pick up the pictures and stack them one on top of the other, but I can tell that he's scanning them.

"Do you see anything in those pictures?" I ask him.

He picks up one of the two pictures of the rear of PO Lancaster's car. "What kind of explosive material was used?"

"I wondered if they had a link between the material used and how my client came to be in possession of it, but that angle is no good. They haven't been able to confirm the type of material used yet."

He picks up the other photo of the rear of the car. "I wasn't thinking about the link, though that is a good defense strategy. I wish that I knew more about explosives."

"Why?"

"I remember going with Keeter to his house one weekend when we were on leave from the Academy. This guy who lived directly behind their place was giving Keeter's dad a hard time about something. It's been too long ago for me to remember what, but the point of the story is, among other things that we did to get back at him for the aggravation that he was causing Keeter's dad, we put firecrackers in his mail box. It was one of those rural types that was near the street. When we used one firecracker and drove around later to check our handiwork, it hadn't done anything, at least that we could see. When we put two in there, but close to the door, the pop caused the door flap to just flop open. I don't remember exactly, but I think that it was around half a dozen that we placed near the center of the box that blew a hole in the side of the old coot's mailbox."

"I'm glad that you're not telling this story in front of the children. I wouldn't want them to get any ideas," I say teasingly.

"I guess what triggered that memory was the damage done to the car. Since the explosion happened on the Fourth, I was thinking that maybe your client didn't want to confess to having fireworks in his cooler since they're illegal here, and they ended up causing bodily injury. It should be possible for the heat outside the cooler to cause fireworks inside the cooler to sweat, causing them to ignite on their own, but I don't see how the blast could cause this kind of damage. I think that he'd had to have had a lot more than just a cooler of fireworks, not only to blow out the taillights, but to leave no sign of the cooler, and for the trunk lid to be blown completely off and not just forced open. Like I said, if I knew more about explosives, I might be able to help you more." He reaches down and picks up the remaining couple of photos off the bed. "I do know that you need to get some rest. Tomorrow, you can try out your theories on me." He hands me the stack of photos.

I slip them into the file, and then place the file on my night table and turn out my lamp while Harm gets into bed.

I haven't had time to move from my sitting position against the pillows when Harm's light goes out.

It takes him only a moment to roll over to face me, and his hand to start to rub my belly. "Okay, baby girl, I understand that you and I need to have a little chat about when it's lights out and time to sleep."

I have a smile on my face as he talks to the baby. "Do you really think that's going to work?"

"Sure, it'll work. She's daddy's girl."

"Are you going to be disappointed if it's a boy?" I ask hesitantly.

"No," he says softly before his lips brush against mine. "What I want most is for you and the baby to be okay. Boy or girl, I'll be happy."

Harm has been on his side and has managed to almost mold his body to mine while he's been talking.

He dips his face into the crook of my neck. "This bed is so much more comfortable than the rack that I've been sleeping on, and you smell better than jet fuel."

I laugh. "Well, coming from you, that's quite a compliment. Thank you."

"I missed you," he whispers into my ear in a sleepy voice. He's already half-asleep.

"I missed you, too," I say before closing my eyes, hoping that sleep will come that easily for me as well.


	28. Chapter 28

**PART FIVE **

**FRIDAY, JULY 13, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0630**

**MAC'S POV**

Though we didn't go to sleep in this position, I woke up with Harm spooned behind me with his hand splayed over my stomach, and I had the first good night's sleep that I've had since he left.

I enter the kitchen to start a pot of coffee with a smile on my face. I love him so much that I can suffer through one pot brewing, especially after this morning.

Even though we went to sleep early last night, we both needed it and slept until the alarm went off at 0530. Harm was planning to get up and do his Friday morning bicycle ride before making the children breakfast, but when he kissed me before getting out of bed, I deepened the kiss, and he responded.

In the weeks prior to his TAD assignment, my growing waist line had us trying new positions around our baby in order to satisfy our newlywed lust for each other. Given the awkwardness of my shape right now, it's amazing how he can love me in a way that makes me feel sexy and desired.

My wonderful husband being home has put a smile on my face this morning, and the satisfied feeling with which he left me has me willing to endure the smell of coffee brewing so that he can have a cup of the good stuff after he gets out of the shower instead of the instant coffee that he's been drinking at home.

"Mommy ... "

I turn to see that Sami has come into the kitchen in her pajamas. She's rubbing her sleepy eyes with her fists.

I'm about to pick her up when, with perfect timing, Harm steps into the kitchen. He makes eye contact with me, and his expression is a mixture of warning and love as he says, "Don't you dare pick up ... " His voice softens as Sami spins around to the familiar voice. " ... my ladybug."

"Daddy!" In a second, he's got her scooped up, and she has her arms around his neck, holding onto him for dear life again. "I thought I'd dreamed you here for my birthday."

"No, you didn't dream that I came home. I came home last night, but I forgot to give you the surprise that I brought back for you. I'll have to give it to you after breakfast."

"Why don't you get out your presents for everyone now? I want to shower before I eat breakfast, and I brewed some coffee for you to help you stave off hunger for a few minutes."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**MOMENTS LATER**

I walk into our bedroom, carrying a mug of coffee for Harm. He's put his bag on the end of the bed, and Sami is sitting next to it, eagerly waiting for the surprise that he's brought for her.

"Now, I bought two, but they're a little different, so, since it was your birthday yesterday, you get to pick which one you want and Abigail gets the other one." He pulls out a teddy bear dressed in a flight suit. "This if Navy pilot bear," he says. Then he pulls out a second bear, this one dressed in summer whites, and says, "This one is Navy lawyer bear."

Sami wrinkles up her nose at lawyer bear for some reason before she speaks. "I want pilot bear. I don't like it when you put on the necklace and leave us," Sami says before jumping off the bed and running to show Abigail her new bear.

'Necklace?' we're both thinking as Harm takes the mug of coffee that I'm offering him.

A few moments later, Abigail comes to the door with Sami beside her. "Sami said that I got a bear, too."

"Yes, this one's for you."

All the noise has awakened Ty, too, and he enters a couple of moments later. "What's going on?"

"Daddy, brought us presents!" Sami exclaims.

Ty's face lights up, but his excitement diminishes a little when Sami waves her teddy bear in the air.

"Don't worry, Buddy. I didn't get you a bear. I got you a model airplane that we can put together."

Ty is all smiles now and hugs his dad, thanking him for the gift.

"Okay, present time is over. We need to clear out so that Momma can take a shower while we make breakfast," Harm announces.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1000**

It seems that I've no sooner opened the Bosworth case file and started to review the notes that I made last night before Harm got out of the shower when the intercom on my desk interrupts my train of thought, but I've been looking over the case since I finished the Friday morning staff meeting more than an hour ago.

"Yes, send him in," I tell Coates.

I didn't want to see Vukovic, but I really owe him the courtesy of telling him face-to-face that we're turning down the deal that he offered my client.

"Colonel," he says as he enters my office. "I wanted to speak with you about the Bosworth case. You've had a couple of days to review the case. I thought you would've had time to speak with your client and advise him that it was in his best interest to take the offer."

"My client feels that accepting any pretrial deal would be admitting guilt, so he declined your offer."

"I see. So you have no counter offer to extend? I'm sure that we could work out a compromise."

"Okay, our counter offer is that my client is released, returns to full duty and all charges are dropped."

"Ma'am, nine people were injured, two were civilian guests, two were military personnel, and the remaining five were dependents, one of which was a nine-year old child. I saw the picture on your desk, ma'am. Your son's that age. If he were the one injured, you'd want the man responsible to get what he had coming to him, too. I can't just drop the charges."

I stand. "You just don't get it, do you, Lieutenant?" I let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, I'd want someone who hurt my son or any of my children punished, but I'd want the right person held accountable. Your case has more holes than Swiss cheese. Your case, in a nutshell, is that a blue and white cooler matching one that my client owns was put into the trunk of a shipmate's car and, seconds later, the car exploded. You don't have proof that the cooler placed in PO Lancaster's car was the one that belonged to PO Bosworth. The crime lab has labeled the type of explosive used as 'undetermined.' You recovered no explosive materials or residue, detonation device or fuse material from the search of PO Bosworth's residence. You have no physical evidence. You have a circumstantial case with a logical patsy. I'm not letting you send him to Leavenworth with what you have. You get real evidence that PO Bosworth is the right guy to hold responsible for that explosion, and I'll drive him to Kansas myself."

He breaks eye contact with me, and I can see that he's looking at the family picture that I have sitting on the corner of my desk. "Mac, you have a lovely family."

I walk around the corner of my desk. His use of my nickname has me ready to go another round. This man isn't good for my blood pressure.

I look him in the eye. "You will refer to me as colonel, Colonel MacKenzie or ma'am while I'm in uniform. If you see me anywhere and I'm not in uniform, I'd give careful consideration to simply walking on by, but if you feel compelled to address me, you may refer to me as any of the aforementioned names or Mrs. Rabb. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal, Ma'am."

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

**SECONDS LATER**

**AT COATES DESK**

Lt. Vukovic comes out of the colonel's office. "Hello, Jennifer." He's turning on all the charm.

"Hello, Vic, I mean, Lieutenant."

"No, please, there's no one around. You can call me Vic," he says as he sits on the corner of the desk nearest her.

"I've been meaning to stop by before now to see how you've been doing. Care to bring me up to date over lunch? I'm buying."

"No, thank you. I've got work to do."

His facial expression and tone indicate disappointment. "Well, maybe another time." He starts to stand, but seems to think better of it as if his next question were an afterthought when what he was about to ask had been his mission all along. "Has Colonel MacKenzie been this upset through her whole pregnancy or only since she and Captain Rabb have been fighting?"

"I don't know what you mean. The colonel and Captain Rabb aren't fighting. What makes you say that?"

"The 'make-up flowers' on her desk ... I just assumed that they were from her husband. I guess they could be from another man."

"The flowers are from the captain, but they aren't fighting. He's been away on assignment. He sent them to her from the ship. It's actually very romantic, don't you think?"

Vukovic's mind starts to race. "Yes, I suppose it is." Vukovic stands. "I've got some work to do on my case. I'll take a rain check on that lunch."

Vukovic didn't hear Jennifer tell him "okay" about the rain check on lunch because his thoughts were on a certain Marine.

To Vukovic, the flowers signaled a weak point in her marriage. His theory was that flowers and romance were for wooing a woman ... if you had her, you didn't need that sort of thing anymore. This was just the kind information that he needed to know. If this case went to court, between her personal life and pregnancy, along with her lack of recent courtroom action, he had the advantage. He'd win this case to impress General Cresswell and her with his legal skills, and then he'd request to be transferred here permanently. He also hoped that the colonel wouldn't want to retire with an embarrassing loss as the epitaph to her career, so she'd withdraw her request for retirement, allowing him to work with her again - here in the sand and surf of San Diego - which would be a dream come true for him.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**SAME TIME**

**MAC'S POV**

I don't know why I let that man get to me. I'm sure that Vukovic thinks that I haven't officially busted his chops because I like him. What did he say when he wanted to come here with me a couple of years ago?

Oh, yes, it was, 'I know why you like me. I remind you of him.'

The hell he does. I could never confuse the two. Harm's charm is natural and isn't forced, for one thing, and Harm's integrity and pride in his work is another. I haven't busted the lieutenant because I don't trust him. If I were to put him on report or bring him up on charges, Vukovic would make it a he said/she said sort of thing. I wouldn't put it past him to say that I was only making a stink of things because he'd rebuffed me. I just don't want to go through that, even if I know that I'm right. I know that he'll make a mistake at some point. He'll slip up in front of someone and, with even one witness to support the charges, I'll nail his ass to the wall.

I take a cleansing breath. I think that they should teach that technique in boot camp. I reach for the file.

'I'll finish this case and send Vukovic back to Washington where he can be someone else's pain in the ...' The picture laying on my desk, the one that Harm was looking at of PO Lancaster's car catches my eye. 'Harm has a point. What type of explosive could do this kind of damage?

**AMERICA'S SURPLUS STORE **

**El CAJON, CA**

**1000**

After another argument with his business partner, Ernest Collins sat in his office, starting off into space.

He'd thought about contacting the authorities to inform them of the illegal activities going on behind the facade of a legitimate business, but the incident on the Fourth of July had changed that. His partner had made it abundantly clear that the bomb that had exploded, injuring nine people, had been a little reminder that any ideas of contacting the authorities should be put right out of his mind.

How had he gotten himself into this mess? More importantly, how was he going to get himself out of this mess without his family being hurt? He wished that he could just disappear.

**PO COATES DESK**

**JLS**

**SAN DIEGO, CA**

**1140**

"It smells delicious, sir. Still trying to make up, sir?"

"I don't have anything to make up for ... unless you know something that I don't, Jennifer."

"I just thought that, since you sent the flowers ... never mind, sir. I heard a rumor a little earlier that you and the colonel were fighting. I let it go to my head. I'll tell her that you're here."

**INSIDE MAC'S OFFICE**

"Yes, Coates?"

"There's someone here to see you, ma'am."

"You can tell the lieutenant that I'm busy ... tell him that I'm in conference. Hell, tell him that I'm in labor, but be clear that he's to go away!" I hope that she'll convey my annoyed tone to Vukovic.

"It isn't the lieutenant, ma'am. It's Captain Rabb."

"Oh, thank you, Petty Officer. Have him come right in," I say calmly. After my outburst, Jennifer is certainly aware that Vukovic is on my last nerve.

**AT COATE'S DESK**

Jennifer Coates cuts her connection with Mac's office. "She said for you to go right in, sir." Harm takes one step towards the door, and she adds, "You might want to be extra nice, sir. She had a meeting with Lt. Vukovic this morning and she's still pretty upset."

"Is Vukovic the source of the rumor that you heard earlier, Jennifer?" Harm asks before turning to open the door to Mac's office.

Jennifer nods in the affirmative.

"It's time for lunch." Coates hears Harm say before the door closes behind him.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**MAC'S POV**

"Where's your little sidekick?" I ask with a smile. "I'm surprised that she let you out of her sight."

"Sami's home with the nanny, but don't worry. I got the okay to bring Mommy and the baby some lunch while she took a nap," Harm answers with a smile. "I hope a turkey club from Stoli's deli is still a good choice."

"Yes, a safe choice ... did you get it with onions?"

"Yeah, pretty much the works ... the way you like it. Why?"

"Just checking." I figure that I've had a bad reaction to onions only once. Maybe it was just a one-time thing. If I get heartburn again, I'll tell him that onions are out, but I won't tell him now when he's been sweet enough to bring me lunch.

"How's your day been so far?" he asks as he pulls my sandwich out of the bag and places it on my desk in front of me.

"Frustrating ... I've run into a bit of a brick wall. I called over to get an update on any forensics that the NCIS crime lab may have pulled off the car in the last few days, like what kind of explosive was used, but what I got was a letter faxed over, informing me that the NCIS crime lab is no longer in possession of the vehicle. Over the course of the last forty-five minutes, I've been able to find out that the car is now in the FBI's crime lab. Why would the FBI want the car?"

"It must be evidence in a case that they're working on, but how your case and their case intersect ... I don't have a clue."

I finish chewing the bite of my sandwich that I'd taken while Harm spoke before I speak.

"When I met with my client, I thought that he was an innocent man and wanted to help. Now that the FBI is involved in the case, I'm wondering if I might have been wrong about him." I let out a sigh. "I made a request for information through the proper channels at the FBI, but it'll be days before I hear anything from them."

"It could be weeks."

"I know, and I don't have weeks. The trial is set to begin on the 24th."

"There's nothing that says that what they tell you, if they tell you anything, will help your case. What about what you do know? You mentioned several theories to me in the car last night that suggested that one of the victims ... more than likely the owner of the car, was the true target. Anything there?"

"Maybe ... this morning, after looking over the pictures that you saw of his car last night, I wondered if the explosives could've been in the trunk or under the back of the car and not in the cooler."

"That's what led you to call the NCIS crime lab, and now you're in a waiting game with the FBI. It certainly sounds like you've got more than one theory to choose from that will get your client an acquittal."

"I don't want to just get my client off. I want to solve this one, Harm," I say with determination.

"One last feather in your cap before you retire ... or are you trying to impress Vukovic?"

"I want to expose Vukovic for the sham lawyer that he is. They wouldn't let Imes practice law because she hadn't passed the bar. He may have passed the bar, but Imes was at least twice the lawyer that he is. He thinks that his job is about a win/loss record. He doesn't dig for the truth. He doesn't belong in JAG or in uniform if he can't get that through his head."

"Then is there anything that I can do to help?" Harm asks, trying to calm me down.

I sigh before I reach across the desk and take his hand. "You're doing it. You're feeding me and letting me vent ... just two of the many reasons why I love you."

Harm lifts my hand to his lips and, as he gives the back of it a kiss, I try to lighten the mood by saying, "We'd better finish eating, or you'll be late reporting back for duty. Sami will be expecting you to be there when she gets up from her nap. Since you got home last night, which gave you today off, what do you have planned for the rest of your day?"

**RABB HOME**

**1642**

I haven't been able to get any farther in my investigation than I was when Harm came to bring lunch to me.

I've been trying not to let it get to me and I've been fairly successful at combating my stress through the late afternoon by taking breaks to practice my cleansing breaths and dreaming of coming home to a peaceful house with a divine smell coming from the kitchen.

I open the door to our home and take a few steps inside before the aroma hits me. He didn't disappoint. The house and the aroma are just the way I'd been imagining they'd be.

I take my briefcase to the den. With Harm back, I can't get away with scattering the file across the bed. I'll have to be good and work in our home office.

After laying my briefcase on my desk, I head to our bedroom to change. My maternity clothes aren't too big anymore, and they're definitely more comfortable than even my maternity uniform.

All the children must be in the kitchen helping Harm because I've been able to move about the house undetected. I smile as I wonder how Harm managed to get Ty to go to school this morning after he found out that he had the day off.

As I approach the kitchen, I hear our children's happy voices coming from inside.

I enter the kitchen, saying, "Something smells good."

"We wouldn't cook anything bad for the best momma in the whole world," Harm says as three smiling children stand around him, nodding their heads.

After I give and receive hugs from the children, I get a chance to get a peck on the lips in greeting from Harm.

Harm must sense my mood because he instructs the children to go pick out a movie that they can all agree on to watch after dinner.

Once the children have left the kitchen, Harm says, "Making them agree on one should give us a few minutes to talk. You okay?" he asks.

"I'll be fine once I hear all about your day, like how you managed to get Ty to go to school after you told the children at breakfast that you had today off."

"It wasn't as hard as you might think. I just told him that he and I would spend some guy time together on Sunday - just him and me - putting together one of the models."

"_One_ of the models? How many did you buy?"

"A couple," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I haven't told you that I figured out what Sami was talking about this morning when she said that she didn't like it when I put on the necklace."

"Nice change of subject, Rabb ... but what was she talking about?"

"When I came by to get my gear that Friday, Sami was home and followed me around, asking me a zillion questions like she does, and she saw me slip on my dog tags. When she asked me why I had to put on the necklace, I told her that it wasn't a necklace and that I had to wear them while I was on the ship. I figure that, since she's never seen me in my flight suit and I was wearing whites that day ... "

" ... she wasn't fond of lawyer bear," I finish for him.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

Harm's dinner was delicious, and time with my family after dinner has relaxed me.

My last complete thought is that a good night's sleep will recharge my energy and I'll look over the case again in the morning. I _am_ going to figure this thing out.

I find that my eyes are already heavy when Harm crawls into bed behind me.

Content in his arms, I easily drift off to sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

**PART SIX **

**MONDAY, JULY 16, 2007**

**MAC'S POV**

Saturday afternoon, while Sami was taking her nap, I realized how worried I'd been that Harm wouldn't be home for Sami's birthday party. She loves him so much that she would have been devastated if he'd missed her party, although it wasn't really what you'd call a party.

Since Sami isn't in daycare or preschool, she hasn't had a chance to make friends her age, so we decided to have just a family celebration. We let her decide what she wanted for a cake, and she chose - you guessed it - a ladybug. There's a speciality cake store that Trish knows about, and she ordered the cake for Sami. Harm and I let her decide on the menu for dinner on Saturday night, as much as we could, and we invited Trish and Frank for an early dinner and for cake and ice cream before opening presents.

We hope that we struck the desired middle ground that we were striving for when it came to gifts. This is Sami's first birthday with us, so it was hard not to buy her everything that we saw in the toy store. Harm and I got her a tricycle, which turned out to be a gift for two, so to speak, since Harm and Ty spent 'guy time' in the garage, putting it together while Sami napped. Mattie, with Abigail and Ty's assistance, bought a variety of new story books for bedtime reading and a couple of "Dora the Explorer" DVDs. Trish and Frank gave her an assortment of inlay puzzles and a new party dress for her to wear for her birthday, as well as an assortment of other clothing.

Although it sounds a little stressful, having Harm home was the key to me relaxing and enjoying the sight of our little girl having the time of her life as she soaked up the attention that she was receiving from everyone at her birthday celebration.

On Sunday, I did hide away in the den for a couple of hours, trying to reason through a few different scenarios, but the picture of the blown trunk lid and the other damage led me back to my belief that the explosives were either under the back of PO Lancaster's car or hidden in the trunk - that he was the intended victim, but the timing of the blast had shed doubt on that.

After reviewing the case yesterday, I was ready to get to work, but first I had to go to my office to see if there was anything that came in over the weekend that would require my attention before speaking with my XO to have him conduct the Monday morning staff meeting. Once I'd reassigned that task, I was on my way to North Island to speak with PO Lancaster and the members of Det. 10.

PO Lancaster swore that he had no enemies ... certainly none who would want to kill him. However, it was a shipmate of his who sent my thoughts in a new direction, keeping my trip to North Island from being a complete bust.

The young man's comment was spoken in jest. "Lancaster, maybe your future father-in-law doesn't like you."

I asked PO Lancaster about his future in-laws. He assured me that they like him, but I have a way to check on that. Once I got into my car, I called Cindy Collins to make arrangements to speak with her this morning.

Cindy said that her father wasn't feeling well today and that she was going to work in his store for him, so, if I didn't mind driving to his store, she'd speak to me there.

**FBI SURVEILLANCE VAN **

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM**

**AMERICA'S SURPLUS STORE **

**El CAJON, CA**

**1000**

"Duke..." the man carefully watching the monitor in the back of the van says to get his partner's attention. "We've got a new face ... a lady Marine."

"How can you tell that she's a Marine?" the other man asks while trying to keep his concentration on his hand-held game unit.

"She's in uniform ... and if you want to know how I know that she's a woman, if she's here to buy contraband, she wouldn't be smuggling anything in, so I'm guessing that she's pregnant."

"What?"

"See for yourself," Duke says, pointing to the monitor.

The other man looks up from his game and, seeing the image that his partner had described, he drops his game unit and grabs for his phone.

**INSIDE THE STORE**

"Hello, Colonel MacKenzie."

"Hello, Miss Collins. When you said to meet you at your father's store, I didn't picture it as being a military surplus store."

"Please call me Cindy. The store is my dad's way of staying in touch with his inner soldier. You know what they say, 'old soldiers never die ... '"

"Your father served in the military?"

"Yeah, he was a demolitions expert in Vietnam towards the end of the war. I'm just opening up, so it'll be slow for a little while, but it'll pick up quickly. I don't mean to rush you, but what did you want to speak to me about? All you said was that it had to do with Ron."

"It's a little awkward, but I wanted to know how well you know him."

"I think I know him pretty well. Why?" she questions, confused by my apparent interest in her relationship.

"Because I find that men are a little less observant in some situations ... what women see as a possible threat might not even register on their radar. I thought that maybe you were aware of a disagreement that he might have had with someone that you might have seen as threatening that he just brushed aside."

"I can't think of anything ... wait a minute are you thinking that the explosion was meant to hurt my Ron? Ron is a good man. I can't believe that anyone would want to hurt him."

A middle-aged man with short dark hair that's graying at the temples comes from the back room. "Cindy ... " He abruptly stops his approach when he sees me. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were with a customer."

"This is Colonel MacKenzie. She had a few questions for me, so I told her to stop by this morning before I got busy," Cindy Collins informs the man who's giving me a look that says that he isn't happy about me being here.

"Ask you questions about what?" he asks defensively.

"The explosion on the Fourth of July," Miss Collins answers.

"I'm representing the accused," I say to support her since he isn't acting like he believes her.

"Then I'll leave you two to talk."

The man makes a hasty retreat to the back of the building. When he's gone, Miss Collins says, "You were asking me if I've seen anyone around Ron who might want to hurt him. How about him?" She motions with her head, indicating that she means the guy in the back.

"Why would you say that?" I ask.

She places her elbows on the counter and leans forward, speaking in a soft voice like she wants to make sure that the man who just left us, whoever he is, doesn't hear what she has to say.

"Mr. Connors has been my dad's business partner for the last year or so, but I don't like him. More importantly, I don't trust him. I wish that my dad had just let the business go under instead of letting him buy into it. I'd written to Ron about how I felt, and I think that's why Ron didn't hesitate to get involved in the fight between my father and Mr. Connors."

"When was this fight?"

"The week after Ron came back ... around the first of June. I don't remember the exact date."

"What happened?"

"I used to help out here a lot, but not much since Mr. Connors has been here. I get the feeling that he doesn't want me around. Anyway, I was helping around here the Saturday after Ron returned from deployment. Ron came by to see if he could take me to lunch or go out and get something and bring it back. Well, he and I were talking - we were probably standing in about the same place that you and I are - when we heard Mr. Connors and my father arguing. We couldn't make out the words, but they had to be yelling at each other for us to hear it up here. In the time that it took Ron and me to give each other a questioning look, wondering if one of us should go back to investigate, there was a noise that sounded like they were in a real fight. Ron took off to the back, and I was right behind him. Mr. Connors had his fist pulled back to hit my father. I could tell that he'd already hit my dad at least once because he had a swollen eye, but Ron pulled Mr. Connors off my dad before he could hit him again."

"Did anyone call the police?"

"No, my father and Mr. Connors said that it was just a business disagreement that got out of hand. Mr. Connors told my dad that he was sorry for getting physical, and my father said that it was okay. I wanted to call the cops, but Ron talked me out of it. He said that my father was a grown man and, if he felt that it was over, I should respect his decision." She takes a deep breath. "I don't think that I've helped you in any way. I've just unloaded my family's problems on you. I'm sure that it's the last thing that you need, considering ... " she says as she points to my stomach. "When are you due?"

"End of October ... and you've actually been very helpful. Thank you, but I should be going so that you can get back to work."

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1220**

I've written several scenarios on my legal pad that would all raise flags to the members that there isn't enough evidence to convict my client. I just have to choose one. More than one theory presented in court makes you look desperate, not innocent. I have what I need to get my client a not guilty verdict, but I'd hoped to solve this case.

**AT COATES' DESK  
1225**

Two men in dark suits and ties loom over Jennifer Coates, who's sitting at her desk. The slightly taller one speaks, "We'd like to see Colonel MacKenzie."

"Who may I say is here to see her?"

They quickly flash their badges. "FBI."

PO Coates doesn't take her eyes off the two men as she uses the intercom system to buzz the colonel in her office.

"Ma'am, there are two FBI agents here to see you." ... "Yes, ma'am." Jennifer disconnects the line with her CO, a little surprised that the colonel hadn't seemed concerned that the FBI was here to see her. "She said to send you in."

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**MAC'S POV**

I stand and move to the door to greet my visitors as the door opens. "Gentlemen."

I wait until after I've closed the door behind them to say any more. "I didn't expect a response to my request so soon, let alone to have it delivered in person."

"What request?" the slightly taller man asks.

"The request that I placed on Friday for information about the car in my investigation that was taken by the FBI from the NCIS crime lab," I say as I return to my chair behind the desk.

"We don't know anything about that. We're here to ask you why you were at America's Surplus Store earlier today," the same man states.

"Why would my visit there be of any concern to the FBI?"

"Our superiors said that we were to extend you the courtesy of coming to your office to ask you why you were there. Please don't make us take you in for questioning. Now, just tell us why were you there, ma'am," the same man states again.

"I was there regarding a case from this office. Why did my visit there result in an interrogation by the FBI?"

"What's the nature of your case?" the same man asks, ignoring my question.

"I don't think that it's any of your concern," I respond.

"I believe that it might be, so please answer the question."

Again, it's the taller one who's doing the talking. I wonder if the slightly shorter man can talk or if this tactic is part of their good cop, bad cop routine.

"No, I don't think so. When your supervisor gives you permission to share information, then you come back to see me, and we'll talk. In the meantime, gentlemen, I have an office to run, so please see yourselves out."

The two of them stare at me like I'm supposed to crack under the strain, but after a couple of moments, the slightly taller one wishes me good day, and they leave as I requested.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**BEDTIME**

"You've been awfully quiet since you got home tonight. Anything you want to talk about?" Harm asks as I get into bed.

"I'm sorry if I've been a little preoccupied this evening. I just keep thinking about my case and how my visit to see a witness resulted in a visit from two FBI agents doing a Penn and Teller impression."

"The FBI came to see you today? I know that this is probably a dumb question, but did they say why?" Harm asks sarcastically.

"I guess why is on a 'need to know' basis. The only clue that I got was that it has something to do with where I went to speak to a witness."

"Do you think that your witness could be under investigation by the FBI?"

"No, but maybe her father is. He owns the store that I went to today and he's a retired military demolitions expert."

"Do you think that he had anything to do with your explosion?"

"He might. It's certainly one theory that I have, but I don't have any proof of anything. I guess the good news is that I may not have solved the case, but I'm sure that my instincts are still good and that my client didn't do it. In addition, with the strong defense that I worked out today, I'm sure that I'll get him acquitted of the charges.

"Then, are you ready to get some sleep?"

"Yes, I am," I say before I press my lips to his and kiss him good night.

**THURSDAY, JULY 19, 2007**

**DR. WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**0915**

I feel fine, so I find the two week intervals at which I now have to come to the doctor's office to pee in a cup and have a nurse check my blood pressure annoying.

I have an office to run and a trial that begins in five days. I don't have time for this today.

At least today, I was able to talk Harm out of being here, though it took some effort.

He knows that, between Vukovic and my case, I'm under more stress than usual, so he's been hovering over me since he returned from the carrier.

I know that he's only trying to take care of me, but I'm not used to the constant care that he's offering and I haven't been very good at accepting it.

"Mrs. Rabb," the nurse calls.

'Finally, I can get this done and get back to work,' is my thought as I head for the door where the waiting nurse is standing.

**OUTSIDE JLS **

**1015**

I'm in such a daze that I don't notice the Penn and Teller impersonators waiting outside the building until I have one on each side of me.

"Colonel MacKenzie, we need for you to come with us."

"I'm really not feeling up to an interrogation right now, so why don't we play this secret, need to know game some other time ... say in about two and a half months. I ought to feel up to it then."

"Colonel MacKenzie, we don't want to interrogate you. Our director wants to see you, and he needs to be sure that the location is secure, so he wants you to come to his office."

"Then you won't mind if I drive myself."

"If that's what you want, we have no objection. We're just to see that you get there."

"Then I'll call my office and let them know that I'm going to be a little later than I thought ... " I say as I pull out my cellphone and start dialing. " ... and then I'll go have a meeting with your director."

"We must insist that you don't tell your office where you'll be."

"Petty Officer Coates, my doctor is running behind, so, for anything urgent, you can call my cell. Anything else can wait until I get back to the office."

**REGIONAL DIRECTOR'S OFFICE**

**FBI SUB STATION  
SAN DIEGO, CA**

"Colonel MacKenzie, I'm Chris Benton. I'm glad that we could finally meet," the ash blonde man says as I enter his office.

"Mr. Benton, I was told that you had information to share."

"Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

By the time I get seated and semi-comfortable, he's taken a seat behind his desk.

"I talked to General Cresswell this morning. He doesn't think that I can get you to cease your investigation by just asking nicely. So what do you want in order to stay away from America's Surplus Store, the Collins Family, PO Lancaster and Bruce Connors?"

"Cindy Collins is a witness and a victim, the same with PO Lancaster, so I don't know why asking a few simple questions has the FBI wanting me to stay away from them. If I knew what the hell you knew that would benefit me, then I'd know what to ask for, wouldn't I? Actually, I do know what to ask for - I just don't know exactly what it is. I want whatever evidence you have that will clear my client. You and I both know that PO Lancaster's car exploding had something to do with whatever you're investigating, and you don't want me to stumble onto it, whatever it is, while I'm investigating my case. If you want me to stop asking questions, just give me the information that I need."

"Done. It may take a few days for me to have someone put the information together, but I'll have it delivered to your office when it's ready."

"You don't have a lot of time. The trial is set to start on Tuesday."

"I'll see to it that you have the information from our office no later than Monday then."

"Thank you. Now, if there isn't anything else, I haven't been to my office yet this morning and I need to get going."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Colonel."

"I hope that you'll forgive me if I don't return the compliment."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**BEDTIME**

With the children at his parents, the first thing out of Harm's mouth was to ask how my check-up went today when we met at the house to go to Lamaze class.

I know that he didn't appreciate my lawyer spin on the news. I replied, "I don't think that it's unexpected news, considering the stress that I've been under lately, that my blood pressure is up some."

As a result of the news that my blood pressure was up again, though not critically so, Harm was tense all through class and, after class, he brought me straight home and had me rest on the couch while he fixed us something to eat.

When Mattie brought the children home, Harm supervised bath and teeth brushing time for everyone.

He had Sami come and give me a hug and a kiss goodnight, but he read her a story and tucked her in alone.

When it was time for Abigail to go to bed, Harm offered no objections to me listening to her read and doing my part of the tucking in with her and Ty afterwards.

Now that we're comfortably settled into bed and alone, I feel that I need to say something that will help him relax so that his blood pressure stays normal and he gets a good night's sleep.

"Harm, my blood pressure isn't that high ... just a little elevated. It'll come down like before when this case and Vukovic are a memory. So try not to worry. It'll be over soon."

His hand is rubbing over my belly. "I'll try, but it seems as if things can be going well and then change in an instant."

"I think that's the nature of life, Harm." I let out a chuckle. "You have to learn to expect the unexpected."


	30. Chapter 30

**PART SEVEN **

**MONDAY, JULY 23, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1455**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm leaning back in my chair with my eyes closed. My hand rubs over my stomach while I take a deep breath and let it out, thinking about the day that I'll see our baby.

Since my most recent brush with high blood pressure, I've been taking five minute breaks like this at least twice a day to meditate on something positive.

I need for my blood pressure to be back down this Thursday when I go to the doctor for a recheck.

My reason for taking one of my breaks now is that I just got off the phone with FBI Director Benton's secretary. He isn't in. He promised me that I'd have my evidence today, and the day is almost shot. I need that evidence because I don't have time to go digging for it now. The trial starts in the morning.

No, I'm not going to think about that right now. It's quiet time. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then take another one.

It's the buzz of my intercom that breaks the silence in my office two minutes and thirteen seconds into my meditation break. I'd ignore it, but Coates would be worried and come running in here to check on me ... probably with half of the staff following her.

"Yes, Coates, what is it?"

"Captain Rabb and another man are here. They've asked to meet with you and Lt. Vukovic about your case, ma'am."

"Then find the lieutenant and have him report to the conference room. We'll meet in there."

"What about Captain Rabb and the man who's with him, ma'am?"

"Tell them to have a seat. I'll be out in about three minutes to escort them to the conference room."

"Yes, ma'am."

I push the button, disconnecting the link between me and the petty officer before speaking my thoughts aloud.

"I'm taking the remaining two minutes and forty-seven seconds of my five-minute meditation before I think about business."

**THREE MINUTES LATER**

I exit my office to see Harm and the other man sitting in the chairs by my office door.

"Any word on when the lieutenant can join us, Coates?" I ask.

"He's on the phone, Colonel. He'll be in the conference room as soon as he can, ma'am."

"Very well, then," I say to Jennifer before turning to face the men who are waiting to see me. "Gentlemen, if you'll follow me, we'll go to the conference room and wait there for the lieutenant."

"Lead the way, Colonel MacKenzie," Harm says as he stands, the other man following his lead and standing to follow us as well.

**CONFERENCE ROOM**

Harm held the door open for me, but aside from that, he's been all business, such as calling me Colonel MacKenzie.

I'm sure that this has to do with the Bosworth case, but why is Harm here? I hope that he didn't get involved with this case because of my blood pressure issues. If he did, he and I are going to have words tonight about him interfering with my job responsibilities.

Before anyone can take a seat, the lieutenant enters the conference room. "Colonel ... " Whatever he was going to say is forgotten when he notices our guests.

"Lieutenant Vukovic, glad that you could make it," Harm says with the confidence that he exudes when he knows that he has all the aces and that his opponent is about to go down.

"I'm sure that you remember me, Lieutenant, but let me introduce both you and the colonel to deputy federal prosecutor Berlin Waterhouse. Mr. Waterhouse, this is Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Vukovic. The rest of our visit may take a few minutes, so why don't we all have a seat so that the colonel can get off her feet?"

After everyone has taken a seat, Harm speaks again. "Mr. Waterhouse and I are here on behalf of the director of the FBI about evidence that Colonel MacKenzie requested. I've brought the FBI crime lab report with me that states that residue on the undercarriage of the vehicle proves that the explosive that was detonated on July fourth was attached to the car itself and wasn't the result of anything being placed inside the car or the trunk."

"Sir, I'm going to be blunt," Vukovic begins. "I think that it's mighty convenient that you're in possession of evidence that clears the client that your wife is representing. How do I know that you aren't creating this for her benefit to make sure that the colonel retires with a clean record?"

"Are you accusing Captain Rabb of fabricating this evidence, Lieutenant?" Mr. Waterhouse inquires, his tone indicating shock and surprise.

"No, Sir, I was just pointing out that it seems odd that the captain would be presenting us with the evidence, especially given the timing since the trial is set to begin tomorrow."

"The timing is strictly my fault, Lieutenant. I was given this case late on Thursday afternoon. When the director of the FBI informed me this morning that I needed to turn over documents to Colonel MacKenzie, which proved her client's innocence by the end of business today, I asked why I hadn't been assigned the case sooner. I was told that my superiors hadn't felt that there was enough evidence to bring charges against anyone. I was also told that it was your recommendation, Lieutentant, that charges be preferred, a serious error in judgment, in my opinion, based on what I've read over the past few days. Anyway, to be sure that military standards for dismissing the charges and correct protocol was used in the document delivery, I requested Captain Rabb's assistance this morning, but, by all means, you should feel free to file your compliant with my superiors at the federal building in the morning with your suspicions as to the authenticity of the report, if you'd like. In fact, call. It'll be faster, and to expedite your complaint, I'll tell them to expect to hear from you," Mr. Waterhouse finishes angrily.

"This piece of evidence is the only one that we wish to release to you at this time. Will this be enough, Lieutenant, for you to drop the charges and convey to the convening authority that the physical evidence doesn't support your original theory ... or should I call General Cresswell and explain the situation to him?" Harm asks.

"No, Sir, I'll take care of everything. If you'll excuse me, I need to make a few calls so that Colonel MacKenzie can arrange for her client's release."

"You're excused, Lieutenant," I say, dismissing him.

"Colonel, I'm sorry for the delay in getting your evidence to you. I'm sure that you'd have been able to expedite this case much faster if PO Lancaster had been at liberty to discuss his involvement in aiding us with our investigation, but he was under strict orders not to tell a soul about it, his part in it or even that he knew Mr. Connors. You understand the spot that PO Lancaster was in, don't you, Colonel?"

"Yes, I do."

"Very good, now, if you'll excuse me, I'm expecting an important phone call," Mr. Waterhouse says before looking at Harm. "You understand," he says to him. Harm nods and, moments later, Mr. Waterhouse is gone, too.

I look at my husband sitting there. He knows that the questions are coming, but he doesn't offer any information. He's waiting for me to question him.

"You want to tell me what just happened?" I ask.

"Your client is innocent and he'll be released. Because of how late in the day it is, it'll probably be tomorrow, but he'll be a free man with no cloud of doubt hanging over his head."

"Are you going to tell me how you got involved in my case?" I ask with a hint of irritation in my voice.

He leans back in his chair. "I probably shouldn't, but to keep me out of the doghouse, you may be on my need to know list."

"You got that right. Now what's going on?"

"Well, you won't get the whole story, but you'll probably hear about part of it on the news, so ... " He looks at his watch. "As we speak, search warrants are being simultaneously served on several places around town. Mr. Waterhouse is waiting on the call that tells him that they've completed the searches of the private homes of the owners and -"

The look on his face tells me the rest of the sentence, and I finish it for him, "- America's Surplus Store."

"Correct."

"So Mr. Collins was responsible for the explosion on the Fourth?" I ask.

"No."

"Then who?"

"His partner," Harm answers.

"Mr. Connors?"

"Yes."

"Why? Because PO Lancaster broke up a fight between him and Mr. Collins?" I ask.

"No, because, when Lancaster broke up the fight, he saw something that he shouldn't have. When Connors realized what the petty officer might have seen, he decided that he had to keep him from talking, but by that time it was too late because PO Lancaster had already tipped off the FBI."

"So he was hoping to stop a federal investigation by killing a witness."

"It isn't clear whether he intended to kill PO Lancaster or just send him and anyone else who might suspect something a message to keep their mouths shut."

"Why did Waterhouse ask for your assistance?" I ask.

"As a sworn special federal prosecutor, I have the ability to act on behalf of the government to prosecute cases, and my military background was especially useful in this case. Now, why don't I follow you home?"

**FRIDAY, JULY 27, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1210 **

Yesterday, I went for a follow-up to check my elevated blood pressure of the week before. Despite having exonerated my client and saying goodbye to Vukovic two days ago, my blood pressure wasn't any better. The good news is that it wasn't any worse either, but with me a week shy of being seven months along, Dr. Wallace said that she was going to go the cautionary route and put me on medical leave for a week. Then she'll check to see if things have improved.

My appointment was mid-morning, and Dr. Wallace had said that, if I went home and rested until it was time to go to Lamaze class, she'd allow me to go to class, but, other than that one outing, I wasn't to leave the house and I was to spend as much time resting as possible. When I'd offered a mild protest, she'd said that it could be worse. She could order bed rest or put me in the hospital if I wanted to be stubborn about it. So here I am in the middle of the day, reclining on the couch and watching the noon news.

Yesterday was Mattie's last day of finals, ending her school year. Seniors get out a week early so that their grades can be calculated and they can attend such things as commencement practice and yearbook signing sessions. Today, she's at the gallery working on putting one more youth charity event together for next month before she leaves for college.

With Mattie gone and the other two children at school, Sami has been staying close to me. We've colored and just finished watching a movie. Being with her this morning has been both relaxing and tiring at the same time.

Sophie called her into the kitchen to get her lunch a few moments ago, but she asked me if she could eat her lunch in here at the coffee table so that she could be with me, so I'm expecting her back at any moment. I'm only half-listening to the noon news that's currently on the television ... that is, until I see the America's Surplus Store on the screen just before they break for a commercial.

I reach for the remote and turn up the sound before the commercial break ends.

"Now to bring you this update on a story that we brought to you on the eleven o'clock report last Monday," the anchor woman begins. "Sources have confirmed that a search of the America's Surplus Store located in El Cajon on Monday has led to charges being filed against Ernest Collins and Bruce Connors, co-owners of the surplus store. We do not know at this time if their two employees will be charged as well. We've also learned that the raid was part of a four month joint investigation by the FBI and several other federal agencies, but a citizen's tip four weeks ago was what really blew the case wide open. It's unclear what charges the federal prosecutor's office will file in this case. We'll continue to update this story as information becomes available."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**BEDTIME**

I've been waiting for Harm to come to bed so that I can ask him about the case involving Mr. Collins and his partner.

Harm comes into the bedroom, and we make eye contact.

"I know that look. I'm not talking to you about the case," he says the instant our eyes meet.

"Why would you think that I want to talk to you about your big federal prosecution case?"

"Because you mentioned seeing the TV news spot during dinner ... and I know the look that you're giving me ... you want more details. You're on medical leave from work, remember?"

"I know, but I'm worried about Mr. Collins. He's the future father-in-law of the petty officer who tipped off the FBI and whose car exploded. I met Mr. Collins' daughter, Cindy, and, based on what she told me about his military service, I just don't think that he'd be the kind of man who'd do anything to endanger our country's security. At least tell me how strong your case is against him so I'll know if I should be concerned about her," I say as I gaze up at him with pleading big brown eyes.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you about the case," he says as he gets under the covers.

I sit close to him, and he puts an arm around my shoulders. "I'm not sure that this is really a good bedtime story for my baby ... " he says as he pats my tummy. " ... but since Momma isn't going to go to sleep until I tell her, I guess you'll have to hear it, too."

I rest my head on his shoulder as he begins.

"Once upon a time, a man named PO Lancaster broke up a fight between Mr. Collins and Mr. Connors. While he was in the office doing so, he saw a list on the desk, only it wasn't a list for eggs, bread and milk. It was a list of military arms and aircraft components, and next to some of the items on the list were notations denoting ordered or delivered. Unsure of whom to report what he'd found, PO Lancaster called the FBI. After receiving the tip from PO Lancaster, the FBI finally had something more concrete to go on and spent a week or two doing surveillance and checking bank records. When they thought that they'd found evidence of illegal arms sales, they asked PO Lancaster to plant a bug in the office at America's Surplus. PO Lancaster did that and, within a week, the FBI was informing other government agencies, including the Government Accountability Office, Homeland Security and the Department of Defense that they'd found at least one place that was selling off sensitive military items. In a taped conversation, they heard Mr. Collins tell Mr. Connors that he wanted out, that he didn't feel right about what he was doing. In a conversation on the fifth of July, Mr. Connors was recorded telling Mr. Collins that his future son-in-law had been lucky, but that he or the rest of his family wouldn't be so lucky if he kept talking about getting out of the business or going to the authorities."

"So how much involvement do you think that Mr. Collins had in the unlawful part of the business?"

"Mr. Collins is cooperating, and, from what we've been able to confirm of his story so far, I don't think that he knew much about what Mr. Connors was doing until recently. The short version of the story is that Collins started his military surplus store five years ago. The aftermath of 9/11 was still in full swing, and the wave of patriotism had the business running in the black for the first three years. After that, business began to fall off and it didn't pick up again. About a year ago, the business looked like it was going to fail. That's when a regular customer introduced Collins to Connors. Connors said that he was looking for a new business venture, and he had the money that Collins needed to pay off some debts and do some repairs on the building. So Collins took on Connors as a partner. The books stay pretty clean for the first couple of months, but when Collins goes into the hospital a few months into the partnership and Connors takes over the books, things get hard to follow. A forensic accountant is still going over the books."

"So Connors is the real bad guy?"

"That's the way it looks. Since Mr. Collins is cooperating, I suspect that, before it's all over, he may be charged, but he'll do little if any jail time. Of course, with so many other government agencies involved, I can't be sure that's the way it'll go."

"Who else is involved in the case?"

"Homeland Security wants to know if anything off the US Munitions List was sold to a foreign nation. If so, Collins and Connors could be charged with treason and/or terrorism. At least a few parts, including some F-14 components appear to have been stolen from US military bases, so the Government Accountability Office and the Department of Defense have their noses in the case, too."

"It sounds like you're going to have a rough time sorting it all out."

"No, my part is about over. I'm only an advisor on the military aspects of the case. Waterhouse is the one who has the problem of prosecuting this case, not me."

"Harm, do you remember when I told you that life was about expecting the unexpected?"

"Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"Something's been bothering me, but I didn't want to know the answer, so I haven't asked. Now I feel like I can't wait for you to just spring the news on me. Even though it'll be unexpected in a way, I'm expecting it, but I'm not sure how to handle it. Nevertheless, I want to know about it now. Did that make any sense?"

"I hope that whatever you want to know isn't as ominous as the way that sounded. What is it that you need to know?"

"Did you get in any flying time while you were gone?"

"I managed to get in a few hours here and there. Why?"

"Did you change your mind?"

"Change my mind ... oh, you're asking if being in the cockpit made me want to keep my wings?"

"Yes."

"It was good to get in one last ride, but no, I didn't change my mind. I'm giving up my wings ... it's time." He places a kiss on my temple.

"Expecting the unexpected here with you is a lot more fun," he says with a grin. Then he leans towards me and whispers, "I love you."

I close my eyes.

"I love you, too," I say with relief before I kiss him good night.


	31. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - NOT GOODBYE, GOOD LUCK**

**PART ONE - One of Their Children**

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0545**

**MATTIE'S POV**

I'm up early today. Nerves, I guess.

I walk through the dark house and head for the kitchen to get some juice, my trusty laptop tucked under my arm.

I set my laptop on the breakfast bar and turn it on so that my electronic friend can boot up and come to life while I retrieve a glass of juice from the refrigerator.

I wonder what my parents' generation did without the internet as I set my glass of juice on the counter and plant myself on a barstool before typing my password into the box on the screen to get started.

**0615**

**MAC'S POV**

I see Mattie sitting at the breakfast bar as I approach the kitchen, but her back is to me, so I can't see if she's doing anything. I'll bet that she's full of excitement and that's why she's awake so early.

Since she's so excited about graduating tomorrow, I'm glad that we didn't tell her that her father is coming in tomorrow morning to be here to see her graduate. She isn't expecting him until next weekend.

I come up beside her and see the email screen on her laptop before I place a kiss on the side of her head in her hair.

She may be excited, but Harm and I aren't sure that we're prepared for the emotions that her departure will bring forth, so she's going to have to live with more displays of affection from us like hugs and kisses until she leaves.

"That's it, keep those fingers limber so you can email Harm and me at least once a day to tell us everything that's going on with you."

"You want to know everything?" Mattie asks in a voice that says 'think your answer over carefully.'

"I'm not sure that Harm could handle knowing everything, but I want to know everything, so make sure that you put all the details in my email."

"Speaking of Harm handling things...can I ask you something?"

"He's out for his swim, so if we're going to talk about him, now's a good time - ask away."

"I know that he and I talked about it, but is he really okay with my dad driving me and my stuff to Virginia?"

"He hasn't mentioned anything to me, so I think he is, but it sounds like the real question is, are you okay with traveling with your father back to Virginia?"

"I hate it when you and Harm turn things around and make me think about things that I don't want to think about. Since you both do it, it's got to be a military thing or a lawyer thing."

"That's a lawyer thing...not falling for your diversionary tactic is a military thing. So back to you...talk to me. What's going on?"

"You two can be so annoying."

"I know."

"I...I don't know. It's like I feel that, by letting my father drive me back to Virginia to go to school when I'm going to be living with him, it cheats Harm and me out of time together. I mean, before the two of you got married...before my accident, Harm and I had this list of things that we were going to do together, like ski Aspen and fly over Mt. McKinley...you know, adventure type stuff, but my accident has left me afraid to try skiing and of getting in a small plane...it's like this cross country trip should've been _our_ adventure, but I'm taking it with my father. At the same time, I know that my dad's sick. I don't know if he doesn't know how long he has left or if he's just not telling me, so I feel that he and I need to do this trip together. It's like it's our opportunity to reconnect before school starts or any of life's other interruptions get in the way."

"You aren't choosing your father over Harm or vice versa. You know that, right?"

"Then why do I feel like I am?"

"You feel that way because you love them both."

"I do and I don't want to hurt Harm."

We hear the patio door slide open. Harm must be finished with his morning swim.

We both look in that direction. Yep, here he comes with his towel hanging around his neck to make himself a cup of instant coffee before he goes to take his shower.

**MATTIE'S POV **

"Good morning, Harm," I say as Mac moves to make his cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Mattie. What has you up this early when you don't have to be?"

"I woke up in the middle of the night. I drifted off a couple of times, but I never really got back to sleep."

"You want to tell me what's on your mind, or am I late, and Mac has you all talked out?"

"You have a full day today. You don't have time to hear what's on my mind this morning."

"Let me guess...is graduation and going away to college part of what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?"

"Am I that transparent?"

"No, I'm just a good guesser," Harm says, and we laugh.

Mac glides up next to Harm and sets his cup of coffee on the counter in front of him. "I'm going to go take a bath," she says to Harm before turning to look at me. "Tell him how you feel. It'll make you feel better."

Mac gives me a 'go ahead' glance as she walks out of the kitchen. She's really got a handle on this mothering thing.

"Harm, I wanted to ask you about my trip. I mean, you understand why I need to take it with my father, right?"

Harm puts his forearms on the kitchen counter in front of the breakfast bar, holding his mug of coffee, and he's still tall enough to be able to look me straight in the eye when he speaks.

"We talked about it, and I understand that you need this time with your father."

"My accident left me not wanting to risk skiing Aspen or flying over Mt. McKinley...you know, the things that we were going to do together, so it just feels like, by taking this trip with my dad, I'm leaving you out of my life."

Harm stands up straight. "Mattie, that's because, in a way, you are, but not in the way you think. You're entering the next phase of your life...growing up. I don't feel slighted that you want to enjoy this adventure with your dad. Your father isn't in the best of health, and I don't really want to be too far away from Mac until after she's had the baby anyway. We'll have our time. Now just isn't it."

"How do you do that? Make me feel better when I was trying to make you feel better."

"Just lucky, I guess."

I slide off my barstool, walk around the end of the counter and slip my arms around him in a hug that he reciprocates.

I break our hug. "You've got about a million things to do today, so I'll start breakfast while you go take your shower."

"That should help get Mac out of the bathtub..." He chuckles. "...because I'm sure that, if you're cooking, there's going to be bacon on the menu."

"You bet. What's breakfast without bacon?" I tease as he heads out of the kitchen.

I go to the refrigerator to search for the makings for breakfast.

As a teenager, I hate it when either of my parents is right about anything, but Mac was right. I do feel better after talking to Harm about how I was feeling about the trip.

Now, if only the rest of the day goes as smoothly...

**EXAM ROOM **

**DR. WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**0900**

"Hello, Sarah. How are you feeling?" Dr. Wallace asks.

"Better, since the nurse said that my blood pressure is down some."

"Is it down enough that she can go to my graduation tomorrow?" I blurt out. Oops. "I'm sorry..." I say, looking at the doctor before taking a glance at Mac and then Harm.

"This is our daughter, Mattie," Mac says, introducing me after I've opened my mouth.

Dr. Wallace looks down at Mac's chart. "I remember now. You asked me something about bringing her last week."

"Yes, because of the blood pressure issue that I've been having, I wanted to know if it was okay to let her come."

The doctor looks up from Mac's chart. "I don't see why not. The time off from work seems to have done the trick. Your blood pressure won't win any awards for being the best, but I'm much happier with the numbers today." The doctor turns and looks at me. "You've picked a great day to tag along. It won't be like welcoming the little one in person, but your mom is having an ultrasound today, so you'll get a look at the baby."

**MINUTES LATER**

The nurse is running the wand over Mac's belly. I don't know what's more hypnotizing, the sound of the heartbeat or the sight of the miniature human being on the monitor.

"What do you think of your little sister?" Harm asks me.

"Harm, now you know that we don't know that for sure. It could be her little brother," Mac scolds, a little annoyed that he's assuming that he knows that it's a girl.

"Can you tell us?" I ask the nurse or the doctor, whichever is listening to me.

"Do you want to know?" the nurse asks Harm and Mac.

Harm and Mac look at each other. They're having one of their conversations without words. I hate it when they do that.

Apparently, having had the debate silently, Mac asks Harm aloud if he's sure about the decision.

"It would make decorating the nursery easier, and since Mattie won't be here..." Harm replies.

Mac reaches for Harm's hand and turns her head to face the nurse and the monitor. "We want you to tell us. Is our baby a boy or a girl?"

"I'm pleased to tell you that your son is doing fine and everything looks good."

Harm is obviously in shock as he looks at the monitor, but I don't know if he's shocked that he was wrong or if it's because he's just found out that he's going to have another son. Mac, on the other hand, has tears in her eyes. I guess that she was hoping for a boy as she looks over at the image of their son moving on the screen.

"I'm going to have another little brother," I say.

"Another ... how many do you have now?" the nurse asks.

"One."

"I'll fix that on Mrs. Rabb's chart, Dr. Wallace. The chart says that this is Mrs. Rabb's first pregnancy."

"The chart is right. The other children are adopted," Mac says.

"Other children?" the nurse says, sounding surprised.

"I have one brother and two sisters. The baby will be their fourth child," I explain.

"Fifth," Harm and Mac say in unison.

Yet another thing that they can do that I don't understand - not seeming to be paying any attention, yet they don't miss a thing, even when their eyes are glued to the baby on the screen.

"Mattie apparently wasn't counting herself, probably because she's leaving to attend an out-of-state college and won't be living at home, so she won't be able to meet her baby brother until the holidays," Mac says.

Mac sounds so proud when she talks about me, like I'm really one of her children, and it causes a peaceful, comforting feeling to wash over me.

"That's still your plan - to come and join us in Pennsylvania for Christmas, right?" Mac asks.

Mac sounds almost...panicked, not a word that I thought that I'd ever use in the same sentence as Mac's name.

"Yes, that's still the plan," I reply before the doctor speaks, getting us back to Mac and the baby.

"Sarah, I don't want you to celebrate having another son or her..." The doctor glances at me. "... graduation too much. I'm pleased with the drop in your blood pressure, but I still think that we're walking a fine line. Tonight is your childbirth class, right?"

"Correct," Harm says, looking worried.

"You can go to the childbirth class and graduation tomorrow, but I want you to take it easy and relax as much as possible between those events. You can go back to work on Monday, but I'm ordering a four-hour limit to your workday for now, and I want you to come by the office next Thursday and have your blood pressure checked again. Any questions?"

With no questions to ask, we're soon on our way to my school where they're going to drop me off so that I can attend graduation practice.

The doctor turns to leave the room, and the nurse reaches over to the machine to turn off the sound.

Harm and Mac know that the ultrasound is coming to an end.

Mac's tears have stopped, but her eyes are still moist and a little puffy when she looks from the monitor to Harm.

"A son ... you okay with that, Sailor?" Mac asks Harm, her joy evident by her smile.

Harm breaks eye contact with the monitor and looks at Mac for the first time since he found out that he's going to have a son.

"Yeah, I'm more than okay with it," Harm says with a signature Rabb smile on his face.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 2007**

**BURNETT HOME**

**1930**

My graduation last night was perfect**. **I wasn't expecting my father until next weekend, so it was a surprise when Grandpa brought him to my ceremony. It was great having my whole family there.

After the ceremony, Harm and Mac took my father home - he's staying in our pool house while he's here - so that I could go out with my friends after the ceremony like I'd planned.

My father looked tired, but I think that he was glad to be able to be here to see me walk across the stage. However, I think that he was relieved to be able to go to some place quiet where he could get some rest afterward.

Tonight, my grandparents are throwing me a graduation party. I've taken up residence in a corner of the room, watching my friends and family enjoying the festivities.

"Mattie, why are you sitting in a corner watching when you're the guest of honor?" Jennifer Coates asks me.

"Jen, I just feel guilty that they've gone to this much trouble. Why did they do it?"

"Graduating from high school is a big deal ... and not to bring up any bad memories on a happy night, but, Mattie, after your accident, we were all wondering if you'd be able to do any of the things that you're doing now. So this is a huge deal ... for you, for Harm and Mac, and for your grandparents. Tonight isn't just about you graduating from high school. This is a celebration of all of your achievements to date and making sure that you know that you'll be taking part of them with you when you go."

"I guess you're right, but it just feels strange," I comment.

Strange isn't really the right word, but that's the only word that I can think of at the moment.

"There's really nothing strange about it. You're one of their children, and they want everyone to know that they love you and are proud of you. Now, let's go get some punch and get you back into the party mood. This is your night and, right now, the look on your face says funeral, not party."

**2030**

The invitations read: Join us from 7:00 to 11:00, and, downstairs, the party is in full swing, but I find myself upstairs, checking in on the children - my brother and sisters.

Since Harm and Mac would be here for most of the night because of the party, it was decided that it would be a good night to take the next step to having the children spend the night at their grandparents.

Ty adores his grandpa, and he'll be fine. Sami has taken a nap here before and, as long as she has her ladybug nap blanket with her, we aren't anticipating a problem there. It's Abigail who has everyone worried. Tonight, Harm and Mac tucked her in, but she'll sleep here and have breakfast with her grandparents in the morning. I brought an overnight bag. I'm going to change after the party and stay here tonight, too, just in case there's a problem. Now that school's out, if all goes well, they'll stay the night on Thursday without me, and next weekend, we'll all be spending the night again because Harm is taking Mac away for the weekend. At least, he has plans to take her away for her birthday if her blood pressure issues don't prevent them from going.

After checking on the children, I venture back downstairs to my party.

All this fuss over me has me not only convinced that I'm one of their children, but it's bringing me the realization that I'm leaving my home.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 5, 2007 **

**MATTIE'S BEDROOM**

**0320**

Everyone in the house is asleep, except me. I can't sleep. The reality of my move is sinking in, and I'm so confused.

My party was wonderful, once I stopped hiding and joined in the fun.

I've been eighteen for the better part of a year, so I saw the day that I graduated from high school as my rite of passage into adulthood. Well, I've been an adult for less than forty-eight hours, and my life already seems to be going off track.

I roll over for about the tenth time in the last two minutes, like a new position is going to clear my head.

Just as I suspected, the change in position did no good. I'm still confused. I think that I'm going where I need to be, but in the last few days, I've realized more and more that, to them, I'm one of their children, even if I don't carry the Rabb name like their other three children do.

I wonder if I've really given my decision enough thought as I roll over once more.

On the surface, it's great to be going 'home' to college. I'll be living with my dad in the house where I grew up. I'll be around some of my old friends. Through the dozens of emails that I've been sending and receiving since I made the choice to go to Virginia Tech, I've found out that some of my old classmates, like Kevin, are going there, too ... but did I take into account that I'm leaving my "home" to go 'home'?

What is it they say? "You won't know what you missed, if you never had it." I've got a clear understanding of the meaning of that statement now. I wouldn't have known what it was like to grow up with **two** loving parents if I hadn't lived with Harm and Mac.

I know that my mother loved me. I know that my mother loved my father, and I know that my father loved us, but for as long as I can remember, my father's love of alcohol came before his love of his wife or his child.

I've come to understand that my father couldn't help himself, but I didn't have that knowledge in time to keep me from thinking that, if only I'd been a better daughter, he'd have been able put us before the bottle, but it wasn't ever going to be that way. If I needed verification of his need for the bottle, my accident was all the proof that I needed.

My father couldn't "handle" my accident, so he turned to booze again. I guess the part that hurts the most is that he didn't even wait until - until I'd actually died or regained consciousness and was told what the odds were that I'd get back on my feet. No, he went back to the bottle not knowing how things were going to turn out. The way he left me at the hospital to die or survive on my own will always be a scar on our relationship.

Harm, on the other hand, didn't want me to wake up and feel alone for even one second, even when he could have gotten away clean by taking his assignment in London and never looking back ... and when he was in London, he made sure to call regularly, and he responded to each and every email that I sent.

Then there was Mac. Harm may have asked her to keep an eye on me, but I gave her plenty of reasons to throw up her hands and run for the hills. I'm so glad that she's a female Marine. I don't know if just any woman could have put up with me. She's a tough lady.

I'm so glad that Mac rode out the rough patches with me because, if she hadn't, I don't know if she and Harm would've been married, and that would have been a tragedy - they belong together.

The starry-eyed way that they look at each other, the way that they smile at each other when they walk into a room and see each other, the way that they can communicate without words, all of that proves my point.

I don't know why it took Harm so long to marry her, but they're together now, and I don't think that there's anyone or anything that could tear them apart. They have the kind of relationship that I hope to have some day.

I roll over yet again. If my father has let me down so many times, why do I want to leave my family - miss meeting my new baby brother when he's born to go to the other side of the country to be with my father?

Quotes from conversations with Harm echo in my head. "Sometimes the right thing to do isn't the easiest thing to do." "I didn't have closure with my father, and it cost me." "I didn't let anyone get too close to me, and it hurt me."

I let out a heavy sigh. I'm going to live with my father because it's the right thing to do. I can see that it's true when I look at him. The whites of eyes and his skin have a yellow tinge. His liver is rebelling against the years of alcohol abuse that he's put it through. He isn't well. I need this trip and time with him to mend fences and get closure so that unfinished business doesn't haunt me.

I also know that I can take this journey alone and, when I need or want to return, the door will be open to me.

I roll over once more.

My body is finally ready for sleep now that it's sunk into my head that Harm and Mac are loving people, both to each other and to their children, and that I'd never have missed not having them if I'd never had them as my parents at all, but since I have...I'm so thankful to be one of their children.


	32. Chapter 32

**PART TWO - Life Is Good **

**MONDAY, AUGUST 6, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1645**

**HARM'S POV**

I'm running a little late getting home, so we may end up having pizza tonight for dinner.

'It must be later than I thought,' I think as I pull into the driveway. The nanny's car is already gone.

I enter the house and I have time to put down my briefcase without being attacked by Sami or greeted by Ty.

After peeking into the living room and finding no wife or children there, I glance in the children's bedrooms before going into our room to change clothes.

No one was in their room, so my guess is that the missing members of my family are in the kitchen.

**KITCHEN**

**1659**

I stand in the doorway of the kitchen. I don't know if I should fuss at Mac or not for being on her feet and cooking dinner.

I quickly choose to enjoy the sight before me for a few moments.

Ty is putting a loaf of garlic bread on a baking sheet. Abigail is tearing lettuce and placing it in the big bowl that we use for salad. Mac is giving Sami a taste of whatever is in the pot - my guess is that it's spaghetti sauce.

"What do you think, Sami? Did we leave out anything or do you think that it's good enough to eat the way it is?" Mac asks.

"Daddy will like it the way it is," she responds with a grin that Mac says reminds her of my mischievous smile.

"Then let me turn down the heat on the sauce. We'll put in Ty's garlic bread and then check the water to see if it's boiling so we can put in the spaghetti before we help Abigail finish the salad. Daddy should be home soon."

"Mattie, too?" Ty asks.

"Yes, Mattie and Tom, too."

Though I'm enjoying watching my wife with our children, dinner is starting to come together, and another set of hands couldn't hurt.

"What's my job?" I ask from the doorway.

"Daddy, we're cooking dinner for you," Sami says.

"I see that, but I have a job, too, right?"

"You could put the garlic bread in the oven for Ty. That would be a big help," Mac answers.

"Well, bring it over here, Ty, and we'll get it in the oven," I say as I move to the wall-unit oven.

"When you're done with that, Harm, I can do the salad by myself, except for cutting the tomato. Will you please cut up the tomato for me?" Abigail asks.

Why is it that, anytime she asks me to do anything with her or for her, it turns my insides to mush?

"Sure, I'll be over there as soon as I help Ty get the garlic bread in."

"Okay," Abigail answers.

We all manage to move about the kitchen, easily finishing up dinner, and Mattie returns with her father in time to set the table before it's time to eat.

**KITCHEN **

**AFTER DINNER**

The children have all put their dishes in the dishwasher and are headed off to the living room to debate what after-dinner activity they want to do this evening.

Even though Mattie usually does it, with her father here, Mac and I are cleaning up the kitchen this evening. Since it will be our job when Mattie leaves in a little more than a week anyway, we figure that the practice won't hurt us any.

"Mac, there isn't much left. Why don't you go get comfortable on the couch while I finish up?" I'm trying for a loving tone, not a nagging or worried one.

"I'm fine, Harm. In fact, the news that I got today has me feeling better than good. I feel great."

"Oh, and what kind of news would make you feel great?"

"I got a call from Bud this morning. It seems that Lt. Vukovic may be brought up on charges."

"I didn't want to upset you, so I didn't mention it before, but I did speak with Cresswell after Vukovic implied that I'd do something illegal or improper to help you win a case, and to accuse me of it in front of a deputy federal prosecutor...I'll just say that I called the lieutenant's conduct during PO Bosworth's case into question," I explain.

"Well, I spoke to the general as well and followed it up with a letter to be more official. However, the compliant that launched the investigation was filed by deputy federal prosecutor, Berlin Waterhouse." Mac says the latter with a big smile on her face.

"It looks like Vukovic finally opened his mouth at the wrong time. Did Cresswell give you any idea of what Waterhouse said?" I ask.

"No, but we can ask the attorney who was assigned to come to speak to us and Waterhouse. Since we're the godparents of one of his children, I'm sure that he'll at least give us a hint."

"Bud?"

"Yes, Bud. He'll be here on Wednesday. I asked him to stay here with us, but he said that he didn't think that it would be appropriate since we're witnesses in his investigation." Mac sighs. "We taught him well, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," I say before leaning in and giving her a kiss. When she parts her lips, I move in a step closer.

I've just deepened the kiss when we hear, "Daddy..."

Our lips part, and I pull back. Mac has a slight blush on her cheeks like we've been caught doing something more than kissing, or kissing but with less clothes on.

We turn to see the pouting face of our little girl, Sami.

"What is it, Ladybug?" I ask.

"They want to play a game that I don't know how to play."

"What if you and I play as a team while you learn how to play the game?" I ask.

Sami doesn't say a word to us, but flees from the room yelling, "We can play that. Daddy said he's going to learn me how."

"We'd better get in there and find out if you know how to play the game, Sailor," Mac says with a grin as she pats me on the six before turning to head to the living room.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

**MAC'S POV**

Harm and I are snuggled in our now common sleeping position when he speaks softly into my ear.

"Mac, if I'm running late...don't cook...just rest. I'll cook dinner like I usually do when I get home."

"I know that you're worried about me, but sitting on the couch all afternoon while the nanny watches my children and then you cooking my dinner can be as stressful for me as being on my feet all day. I cooked spaghetti, Harm. It wasn't a gourmet meal, and I hate to tell you, Mr. I Eat Healthy, but I used sauce from a jar, so I didn't really do a lot."

"Promise me that you won't overdo?"

"I promise. Now go to sleep. The baby and I need to get some rest for tomorrow."

"Mac..."

"Yes, Harm?" I know that I sound exasperated, but what does he want to fuss at me for now?

"I love you."

I smile, though he can't see it. "I love you, too," I reply back to him while placing my hand over his on my stomach - life is good.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8, 2007**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1400**

**HARM'S POV**

I swing my office door open, eager to greet my visitor. "Come in, Bud. It's good to see you."

"You, too, Sir, though I wish it didn't have to be a business call."

"Yeah, me, too, but it is, so have a seat and let's get the business out of the way."

"Yes, Sir."

Bud takes a seat while I make my way around the corner of my desk to sit down, but eyeing the paper on my desk, I stop to hand it to him.

"I'm sure that you'll have questions, anyway, but I thought that it might save you some time and keep you from having to read your own handwriting if I had a statement typed up and ready to go for you," I say in explanation.

"Thank you, Sir," he says with that jovial Roberts' grin firmly in place.

"Go ahead and ask me your questions, Commander, because I have a few for you, too."

"Sir, you understand that, since you're personally involved in the case, I can't talk about my findings with you..."

The befuddled look on his face as he begins to explain is one that I'd call the Navy's version of Gomer Pyle.

A wave of my hand stops Bud in mid-sentence as I sit down, but wanting to put his mind at ease, I give him an explanantion.

"I don't want to ask you about the case, Bud. I want to ask you if you're going to be in town long enough to come by our house for dinner. You know, show off pictures of your kids and meet the newest members of our family. Mac told me that she'd told Harriet about our girls and sent her some of the millions of pictures that Mattie's taken of them via email, but pictures don't do my girls justice. So let's get business out of the way, and then we can talk dinner."

"Yes, Sir, I know that you've given me a statement and I _will_ read that, but, for now, could you just tell me in your own words what happened during a conference between Lt. Vukovic, Colonel MacKenzie, Mr. Waterhouse and yourself, Sir?"

"Certainly, Commander," I say before leaning back in my chair and beginning to tell the details of that afternoon in the conference room.

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 10, 2007**

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME **

**1945**

"Sorry about that, Bud," I say as I enter the living room.

"No, Sir, it's fine. Saying goodnight to your children is one of the simple joys of life."

"Yes, it is, Bud."

"Where's the colonel?" he asks.

"Mac is still making her rounds. Yesterday, her doctor gave her the okay to return to full duty, well, as full as a pregnant woman is allowed. Today was her first full day back. Her being home so much these last couple of weeks has given her and the children a case of separation anxiety, I'm afraid, but she'll be down in a few minutes."

"Harriet mentioned that the colonel had emailed her that she was under 'house arrest.' I believe that's what she said the colonel called it."

"Yes, that's how Mac referred to the little more than a week when she was cooped up in the house to rest."

"Sir..." There's a hesitation in his voice. "...did Lt. Vukovic being here have anything to do with the colonel needing rest?"

"I'd like to blame the lieutenant, but though I'm sure that his presence didn't help anything, he didn't cause it. Mac's blood pressure had been an issue before he came and it may creep up on her again, but, at the moment, it's under control."

"How serious is it, Sir? ... If you don't mind my asking," Bud adds quickly.

"She's had higher than normal blood pressure, but not high enough to send her directly to the hospital, and, with no other symptoms, her doctor thinks that everything's okay. Resting at home and shortened workdays before she started back to work full-time were a precaution. So tell Harriet not to worry."

Bud has an awkward smile on his face.

"What is it, Bud?"

"You, Sir, you seem more relaxed...happier, Sir, than I've ever seen you before."

"Why wouldn't I be? Life is good."

"Yes, it is, Sir."

"One of these days, Bud, you're going to call me Harm."

"I'm still working on that, Sir."

"Now get out those pictures, because Mac won't be much longer, and she's going to want to see whatever pictures you have before I take you to the airport."

Bud reaches for his wallet. "Yes, Sir ... Harm."

'Rome wasn't built in a day, so "Sir ... Harm" is an improvement,' I think.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 11, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1030**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm packing a few things into a small duffle bag while Abigail and Sami are sitting on the bed watching me.

"Where are you going?" Abigail asks.

"I don't know. This morning after breakfast, your dad told me that I needed to pack a few things for spending the night away from home. When I asked him where we were going, he told me that he was taking me away for my birthday, but that where we were going was a surprise," I say as I put two more items in the bag.

"Do you have to go?" Abigail asks. Her voice is almost a whine.

"I suppose I don't have to, but I want to."

"But it isn't really your birthday yet," Abigail says, sounding so sad.

I sit down on the bed next to the girls.

"That's true. My birthday is this coming Tuesday, but Mattie is leaving the day after my birthday, so being able to have a sleepover with your big sister and your grandparents can happen only this weekend. Besides, I want to spend my real birthday with my children," I say before placing a kiss on top of each of their heads.

"Ty, they're in here," Harm says from the doorway. "We were looking for the girls. I want to go over the plan for the weekend one more time."

"You've gone over it three times already today, Harm. I think they've got it," I say with a grin.

"I just want to make sure," he replies with a sheepish grin of his own. I think that he's the one having problems with leaving the children for the weekend.

Ty enters the bedroom to join us, and Harm begins to recite the plan - again.

He's treating this like a mission, not a night away with this wife. I swear, if I weren't pregnant, I'd think that we were going to be on some covert operation, like going to some function with a hidden agenda, but I know that he'd never risk it now.

**THE MISSION BAY HILTON **

**2100**

**HARM'S POV**

After placing another call - we placed the first call while we were still at the art gallery to check on the children, Abigail in particular - I'd stripped down to my boxers.

I'm currently enjoying being sprawled out on the bed on top of the covers with my finger-locked palms under my head.

If Mac wasn't so pregnant, I wouldn't be wearing anything at all.

I remember reading that's it's okay to 'have relations' - that's the way one book put it - with a pregnant woman until she's too uncomfortable or because of pregnancy complications that causes the doctor to rule out that activity.

The doctor never said that Mac's blood pressure was cause to stop, and I didn't ask. However, there was something about the last time that we were together that made _me_ uncomfortable. Not physically, mind you, and Mac never said that she was uncomfortable, but I don't want to wait until she says that something hurts before we stop.

In addition, a couple of the books said that having intercourse can actually help to bring on labor in the latter stages of pregnancy, something that we don't want to happen, so I'm happy to make our satisfying reunion encounter our last one until after the baby arrives, not that I don't think about making love to her - often.

I'll never tell her how many mornings I drink my first cup of instant coffee and follow it with a cold shower since the doctor told her to rest.

"You know, to lie around in a big bed, it would've been cheaper to stay at home," Mac says as she enters the main room from the bathroom, dressed in a nightgown that stops just above her knees.

"I know, but I wanted for us to get away. I know that we're only minutes from home, but I thought that, if the children thought that we were 'away,' they'd be less likely to want to come home. That's why I had us leave the house so early today, to make them think that we were going somewhere ... well, that and it gave me more time with you. We had time for lunch and a little window shopping for the baby. We had time to check in here and let you lie down for a little while before we changed and went to the gallery. Besides, even though our children are at my parents' house, Tom is staying in our pool house, so we wouldn't have been alone at home."

She's smiling as she sits down on the bed.

"He wouldn't be in the house. You still could've stripped down and run around in your boxers without anyone caring."

"Maybe, but you've got to admit that having someone to clean up after you and having room service at your beck and call has its perks over being at home."

"True," she says as her lips come towards mine.

After a quick kiss, I add, "Besides, I get a chance to have you all to myself."

"So, what did you have in mind for us to do?" Mac asks.

"Since we went to the gallery tonight to see Mattie end her run of charity events there before she leaves, I thought that we'd just relax. We can watch TV, rent a movie or just get some sleep."

"So you've already called to check to make sure that the children got to sleep okay?"

"I..." Sometimes I don't know if I should be upset that she knows me so well or just accept it and move on. "...I did," I say, looking away, almost as if I'm ashamed, but I'm not, a little embarrassed maybe, but not ashamed.

"I think that it's wonderful that you care so much about your children," she says before she reaches out and grasps my forearm. I relinquish my hand from its place behind my head, and she places my palm on her stomach. "It's also how I know that our son is very lucky to have you as his father."

"I think I'm the lucky one. I have you," I say as I sit up to bring my lips to hers.

When our lips part, it's Mac who hangs her head.

"Are they okay? Is Mattie upset that we left her event so early?" she asks.

I smile. I may have been the one who called, but if I hadn't already done it, she would've called when she got out of the bathroom.

"No, Mattie isn't upset. She knew that we weren't going to stay long, and Mattie left with Tom not long after we did. She took Tom to our house and got her bag before heading over to my folks. Frank said that he'd arrived home and was paying Sofia for the overtime when Mattie arrived at the house. Mattie helped out, and everyone was in bed within a couple of minutes of their regular time. They're all asleep and fine."

Mac lifts her head. "If tonight is for relaxing, let's get more comfortable, and then you can tell me how you figure that taking me away to have me all to yourself is a birthday present for me."

"There's something in it for you," I say as she gets off the bed and pulls down the covers. "I'll order breakfast in the morning, and you can sleep until it gets here. They have a spa here, and on their price list is something called a 'mother-to-be package.' I don't know what all they do, but you'll know before we head home tomorrow. Your appointment is at ten in the morning, and there might be a bigger surprise for you when you get home."

"This just might turn out to be the best birthday ever for me. Now get under the covers and get comfortable while I see if there's anything on TV."

**MINUTES LATER**

Mac's flipping through all the channels again. I swear that she doesn't stop on a channel long enough to see if the program might be worth more than a passing glance.

I see her point the remote towards the TV and figure that were going to go through the channels again, but the TV screen goes black.

"I don't want to watch TV. You know what I want to do?"

"Have a snack?" I inquire.

"Something like that," she says as she moves up to tuck her shoulder next to my rib cage.

"You want something from the mini-bar or the room service menu?"

"I don't want that kind of snack," she says with a purr before her lips meet with my ear.

I try to pull my ear from her mouth by moving my head, but she just leans with me and follows my moving head. However, the tilt of my head in trying to free my ear has given her access to my neck, and she wastes no time in moving from nibbling on my ear to placing a kiss on that spot just below my ear lobe and a centimeter behind it.

I don't know if she's the first one to find that spot or if it's the way that she attacks it, but it's become a surefire way for her to get to me. Of course, since we've been together, I haven't needed any real encouragement.

My mind is racing...resist temptation. Your wife isn't thinking clearly. She's seven months pregnant. She needs to be resting.

Her hand slides down my abdomen and breaches the top of my boxers.

"You don't play fair, Mac."

"Oh, I'm not playing. I'm serious," she says before returning to her mission of getting me all hot and bothered with kisses to my neck and the gentle stroking of the object of her mission.

"But, Mac...you're pregnant." As soon as that leaves my mouth, I know that it was the wrong thing to say.

She abruptly stops kissing my neck. "Yes, I am, but it isn't like it just happened a month ago..." she says as she removes her hand from my boxers. "...which, by the way, was the last time that we did anything."

"Has it really been a month?" Again, wrong thing to say, I should've explained the other comment and verified her calculation of time later.

"Yes, it has ... not that I don't understand that gap. I needed the rest, but I'm feeling fine now. I'm back to full duty, and the doctor's exact words were, 'You're released to full duty under pregnancy guidelines, and you may return to all normal activities.' Well, I consider being with my hunk of a husband a normal activity, but, obviously, you don't think that being with your fat wife is still an appealing idea after having the past month off."

After she finishes speaking, she starts to move away from me.

'Redeem yourself now, Rabb, or the rest of this weekend isn't going to be as pleasant as you'd thought it would be,' I think as I reach to stop her from moving away.

"Mac..." I slip my arms around her. "...I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I love you. I didn't realize that it had been a month because I wasn't paying attention to anything other than making sure that you were getting the rest that you and the baby needed. Your job is to take care of our son. My job is to take care of you so that you can do _your_ job, remember?"

I get a nod from her. I'm making some progress.

"I thought that maybe it was time to stop being intimate because of how close you are to the end of your pregnancy, not because I don't want you. I haven't been thrilled with taking cold showers recently, but I'd keep doing it for as long as I had to if that's what you and the baby needed."

She turns to face me. "I love you."

"I love you, too ... and, for the record, you aren't fat, you're pregnant, and I think that you're the hottest pregnant woman ever."

"Even hotter than Angelina Jolie?" she asks.

"Definitely."

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise that, if it doesn't feel right, I'll tell you so that we can try a different position before we give up and decide that it's time to stop."

"Deal..." I say. "...as long as you keep your promise."

A moment later, we're back in our previous position, and I know that our 'dry spell' will be ending tonight.

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 12, 2007**

**NURSERY **

**RABB HOME**

**1500**

**MAC'S POV**

We weren't in the door more than a minute before our family, including my in-laws, were gathered around us, grinning like they were about to burst.

I was led down the hall to the room that we'd decided was going to be the nursery.

I see why my husband swept me away so early in the day yesterday as soon as Trish swings open the door to the nursery. Harm had been on a mission - a birthday surprise for me.

Harm, along with Frank, Trish, Mattie, and I don't know who else, have completed the nursery.

I don't know when they planned this, but it's perfect.

The walls are painted a pastel blue. The white nursery furniture has been assembled and is in the places where I'd put them in the sketch that I'd made of how I'd envisioned the room to look.

I look around the room at the details and wonder how they managed to get this all done in twenty-nine hours.

It's just the way that Harm and I had talked about it looking.

"Thank you, everyone. It's perfect," I manage to get out before the tears start to fall.

I don't want to cry in front of everyone, so I turn and flee the room.

**HARM'S POV**

"I think that she's a little overwhelmed," I offer as an excuse for Mac's behavior.

"I hope that she likes it," Mom says.

"I'm sure that she does," I answer. "I'm going to go check on her."

"If there's anything that we can do, something that she wants to change, we'll help you change it. Just let us know," my mother says to me as I turn to leave the room.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

Mac is sitting on the edge of the bed with a box of Kleenex in her lap.

"Mac, if you don't like the room, tell me what you don't like, and I'll start to work on changing it after dinner."

"The room is perfect, Harm. I love it."

"But you rushed out of there. If you like the room, are you upset that I did it as a surprise? Because if that's it, I want you to know that I did think about the fact you may have wanted to be more involved, but, after careful consideration, I thought that it would be okay for us to do it for you. You're back at work full-time and trying to spend extra time with the children. You have a lot on your plate. I wouldn't have done it if we hadn't gone to the store on Thursday after we dropped off Mattie at graduation practice and discussed a theme. We used your sketch with the furniture that we bought together and the paint chip color that we'd chosen at the home improvement store. With the room color and furniture selected, all we added were a few accessories, keeping in mind the theme that you'd written at the bottom of the sketch, 'nautical,' and, really, the accessories can be easily exchanged if you don't like what we chose."

"I didn't want everyone to see me bawling my eyes out. That's why I left the room."

"Well, I think that we should go find them. Everyone is afraid that you don't like it and everyone had a part in it. Letting Sami pick out something for the room seemed to ease her worries that she'd be forgotten when the baby came, and when the girls were trying to make a decision about something, Ty's chest would puff out with pride and he'd say, "I'll help you choose because I'm a boy and I know what our baby brother is going to like because he's a boy, too. So, I think, in some way, letting them be involved helped them become closer to their baby brother."

"I knew that Sami didn't want to give up her place as the baby in the family, so boy or girl wouldn't have mattered to her. The talk that you had with her about still being your little girl, even if she isn't the youngest seemed to help with that, though. So I'm glad to hear that Ty has started to make some kind of peace with the fact that the baby is a boy. I had some concerns about him after we told the children last weekend that the baby is a him, too."

"I did, too, but he seems to be doing okay," I say.

"I think the bawling has finally stopped. Let me go wash my face before I go tell everyone that I love the room."

**NURSERY**

"I'm sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to give anyone the impression that I didn't like the room. I was just having a hard time looking at all of you without crying because I love you and this room so much. I didn't want to cry in front of you because I didn't think that you'd understand that I wasn't crying because of the room. I was seeing the family that I've always wanted and, at that moment, I was overwhelmed that my life is so good."

"We love you, too, Mac," my mother says to her before moving to hug her.

After my mother breaks the embrace, she says, "I brought vegetarian lasagna for dinner. I'd better go check on it. Frank, why don't you and Harm come with me and give me a hand with dinner while the children tell Mac what they did to help get the room ready for the baby?"

Frank gives Mac a hug and follows my mother.

I'm standing behind Mac as I whisper in her ear, "Are you going to be okay in here if I go to the kitchen?"

After she nods, I place a kiss on the crown of her head and turn to leave the room.

Before I'm out of earshot, I hear Mac ask, "Why don't I try to guess who did some of the things?"


	33. Chapter 33

**PART THREE - Keep Her Safe**

**MONDAY, AUGUST 13, 2007**

**NURSERY**

**RABB HOME**

**0147**

**MAC'S POV**

Since my blood pressure has gone down and my middle of the night trips to the bathroom have become more frequent, Harm stirs when I get up, but I'm glad that he doesn't wake up completely like he did before. That's why I was able to slip from bed a little while ago, use the bathroom and then come into the nursery to take another look around.

I still can't believe that they did all this and did it so well.

I look in the crib and see the stuffed toy tugboat that Harm picked out at the store that inspired the accent colors in this beautiful room.

*******FLASHBACK*******

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Not more than an hour ago, we'd heard that we were having a boy. We went from dropping Mattie off at her high school for her graduation ceremony practice to a local baby chain store.

Babies R Us Store

The furniture was easy, because the one I liked the most could be for either a boy or a girl, and we'd decided on it before today. The crib is the convertible type so it will convert to a toddler bed in a few years. My hesitation in purchasing it before today had been the fact that it's white, and the girls' furniture is white. I looked at other sets that were similar, but came in wood tones: mahogany and oak. The mahogany was fine for a man's bed, but not for a little boy's, and the oak seemed to be okay, but the crib wasn't the convertible type. So the features sold us on the white furniture: dresser, changing table and convertible crib.

The next step was to come up with a theme. With one room in the house already decorated heavily in pink, I'm even happier that this baby is a boy.

"Blue, I want blue for this room. Yes, blue and white," I say to Harm.

"Okay with me - blue and white it is. Obviously, the furniture is white, so do you want to go with baby blue or sea blue walls?"

"Baby or maybe sky blue, we'll have to make our next stop the home improvement store to look at paint chips, but I like the idea of the sea. How about we do a nautical theme in his room?"

"I don't know, Mac, nautical as in sailor? I don't want him to see that image from birth. I don't want him to feel like he has to be a sailor like his father, grandfather and great grandfather."

"I can understand that, but I wasn't thinking sailor. I was thinking more nautical, not naval."

"Well, let's look around and see if you can give me a better idea of what you mean."

I was looking over the bedding sets for an idea when Harm reappeared, carrying a stuffed toy.

"Something like this, perhaps?" he says as he places the toy on his flat palm.

In his hand was a stuffed tugboat, but in brighter colors than a real tugboat. The bottom was dark blue with a red bridge.

"Yes, that's more want I mean."

******END FLASHBACK******

Now, from that little tugboat, we have this room. The walls are between a baby and sky blue. Baby blue was too light and sky blue was too bright.

The white furniture is crisp and clean, but with a variation from what we bought. Frank found little anchor drawer pulls in dark blue that he used to replace the plain white ones.

The crib bedding set is one that Harm and I looked at in the store last week, but we hadn't decided on it yet. The sheets are red with dark blue stars on them. Appliques of a tugboat, a sailboat and an anchor are featured on some of the squares sewn together with squares of the same pattern as the sheets to make the comforter. A wooden sailboat with painted red sails is the base for a lamp on the dresser. Red curtains covering the windows compliment the red in the baby's bedding, and matches the red of the tugboat's bridge.

The quilt that Grandma Rabb gave us at Christmas is draped over the end of the crib.

Mattie provided a collage of the baby's siblings and has made an arch around the collage with four 8 x 10 wedding pictures. On the bottom left is a wedding picture of Harm's grandparents. Above that picture and offset to start forming the arch is a wedding picture of Harm Sr. and Trish. The next one is a wedding photo of Harm and me, and the last picture is a wedding photo of Trish and Frank.

Sami's finger painting, Abigail's picture of the sun over the water, and Ty's rendering of Grandpa's yacht are all hanging in acrylic frames on another wall.

The room is filled with a sense of the love and family into which this baby is being born, but it still feels very much like a little boy's room.

I'm lost in my thoughts and don't hear Harm come into the room, but I feel his arms slip around me until his hands come to rest over our son.

He whispers in my ear, "When you didn't come back to bed right away, I thought that I'd find you in here."

"I was just giving the baby a recap of his room." I lean back against Harm's chest and put my hands on top of his. "This is really happening, isn't it? We're having a baby together."

He places a kiss on the side of my head in my hair. "Yes, we've gone halves on a baby, and he's going to be perfect. So, tell me, is that moving around that he's doing because he likes the room or because he doesn't?"

"He loves his room, and so do I." I clamp my hands around his forearms. "Now that I have you trapped, you can tell me how you got all this done when all that we had by last weekend was the furniture and paint color picked out."

"I have my ways."

"No, not good enough, spill. How did you pull this off?"

"It was easy, really. After we got home from childbirth class last Thursday, you drew that sketch of the room with the furniture placement and stapled the paint chip to the back corner. I made arrangements on Friday morning to meet with Mom and Frank for lunch that day, and that's when we came up with a plan to make it happen. We all had a part. Frank rounded up a couple of guys to help him paint the room. My mother painted the compass rose on the ceiling, using the light fixture as the center. Mattie did the photo arrangements and made sure that Ty, Abigail and Sami felt included by letting them pick out accessories online that I purchased on my lunch breaks over this past week. Then, this past Thursday night when the kids were at Mom's, Mattie and Mom supervised the kids while they did their art pieces that are on the wall."

"Well, you all did a wonderful job."

"You did a good job with the sketch. It made it easy to bring the rest of it together. By the way, my mother was pretty impressed with your sketch. She said that she knows that you're pretty busy right now, but after the first of the year, her gallery is going to sponsor a beginner's art class on Saturday mornings. She said that she'd watch the girls, and Frank and I can watch the boys, and you can go to the class if you're interested in doing it."

"I'll give that some thought, but I think that, right now, we're ready to go back to bed."

"It's almost two in the morning. I'm not surprised that you're ready to get some more sleep."

I turn in his arms. "Oh, I didn't say that I wanted to go sleep, Mr. Rabb. I said that I wanted to go back to bed."

He gives me a look with his eyebrow cocked and a sparkle in his eyes, and I know that, once again, we'll share a loving joining before we go back to sleep.

**TUESDAY, AUGUST 14, 2007**

**JLS PARKING LOT **

**1601**

Today is my birthday, and what wonderful birthday news I got just two hours and thirteen minutes ago.

I see our SUV coming towards me.

Mattie dropped me off at work this morning so that Harm could pick me up. Trish and Frank have our minivan so that they can shuttle the Rabb clan to meet us at the restaurant for dinner.

The SUV pulls up and stops in front of me. I see Harm reach to unbuckle his seat belt. I'm sure that he's planning to get out of the car to open the door for me, but there's no need for that, so I motion for him to stay put before I reach for the car door handle.

Harm waits until I'm inside and buckled up, then he puts the car in motion before he speaks.

"Are you feeling up to a few more hours out and about?"

"Yes, I'm starving. Do you think that we should've made tonight's dinner a going away dinner for Mattie instead of my birthday dinner?"

"No. I don't think that Mattie wants to celebrate the fact that she's leaving or even acknowledge it until she has to tomorrow when they're about to drive away."

"But it isn't goodbye, it's good luck," I remind him.

"We both have personal experience in this area. Saying good luck instead of goodbye doesn't change the way you feel inside. It just makes it sound better. It makes you believe that nothing's going to change while you're away and that the other person is just going to be waiting for you to come back."

"You aren't sure that she's going to come back, are you?" I ask.

"Are you?" He pauses for a moment before beginning again. "No matter how much we feel like she's our daughter, she isn't ours. If she were just going away to college, it might be different, but I have to be realistic. She's going to live with her father...on the other side of the country. She had a life there before our paths crossed, so it's quite possible that, once she gets settled into her life there, she'll find out that she's home again and not want to come back here."

I reach over to place my hand on his forearm and give it a little squeeze. I knew that he was upset about her leaving, but, as usual, he hadn't said anything to me until now, and she's leaving tomorrow. He's been dealing with this alone.

I wish that he'd lean on me when he's dealing with emotional things. I'd ask him why he's been keeping this bottled up inside and not talking to me about it, but I already know the answer - my blood pressure. He didn't want me to worry about him and risk my blood pressure going up any more.

After a few moments for him to regain some composure before we get to the restaurant, I remember that I had something that I wanted to tell him about my day, and it'll get our minds off of Mattie's impending departure.

"Bud called me this afternoon. Did he call you?" I ask.

"No, I didn't hear from him. What did he have to say?"

"He called about Lt. Vukovic's case, and I hate to say it, but Vukovic's misfortune really made my day."

"Misfortune...so he's being charged?"

"Yes, and they've already settled on a punishment, a punitive letter of reprimand, which caused Cresswell to cancel Vukovic's request for transfer to JLS. So the perfect present is that I'll be able to enjoy my final months in the Corps without the stress of having the lieutenant under foot, and with the letter as part of his permanent record, he's going to have to shape up into the kind of lawyer that he should be, or his next misstep will send him out of the Navy. Either way, the Navy's integrity has been preserved."

"No wonder your blood pressure was up...trying to preserve the integrity of the entire Navy is a big job," he says with a smirk.

He has a little smile on his face. He needed the change in subject matter.

I swat his arm, but it's a playful one, and I'm rewarded with a little bit wider smile.

I know that we're going to have to face sending her off tomorrow, but tonight we're celebrating my birthday, so I keep with lighter subjects while we drive the last few miles to the restaurant.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**2145**

**HARM'S POV**

I don't know if it was a better choice than the traditional frosted cake, but the ice cream cake for Mac's birthday seemed to be a hit with everyone, especially Mac, because I find her in the kitchen indulging in a second helping now that the children are in bed.

She looks up from her bowl with her spoon poised to enter her mouth when she sees me.

"I had my piece, but the baby wanted his piece," she says innocently.

"You don't have to blame it on the baby. It's your birthday. If you want a second piece of your cake, it's okay with me."

"You want a bite?" she asks, turning her spoon in my direction.

"No, thank you."

She wastes no time in turning the spoon back to her mouth. "Suit yourself. It's very good," she says before taking the bite.

"Tell me, did you enjoy your entire birthday or just the cake?" I ask teasingly.

"I loved every minute of it, from Saturday night away with you, to my baby's beautiful room, to tonight's dinner and the cake," she says with a smile before she pushes another spoonful of the cake and ice cream confection into her mouth.

I move in closer to her and kiss her on the forehead, avoiding the ice cream stickiness around her mouth.

"I am confused about the gift that you gave me tonight, though," she informs me.

"The baby name book? Why would that gift confuse you? Do you think that it's too early to be thinking about names?" I ask.

"Since we're having a son, I guess I thought that there wouldn't be a need to think about names. He'd be named after you, a third generation of Harmon Rabb."

"We are _not_ naming my son Harmon. I don't like it, so why would I name my son that? I was thinking of something more mainstream like David, or naming him after someone who represents some principle that we'd want him to have. You know, like George Washington Rabb for honesty, because George didn't lie about chopping down the cherry tree."

"I read somewhere that that story is a myth," she says with a grin.

"Well, you get the idea. What about someone of historical importance, say Benjamin Franklin or Thomas Jefferson Rabb?"

"I think that choosing a name isn't going to be as easy as I'd thought it was going to be," she replies with a sigh.

Mac gets up and puts her bowl and spoon in the sink before moving back to me and wrapping her arms around me.

"Now that baby has had his cake, do you know what would make his mother's birthday end perfectly?"

I slip my arms around her. "What?" I ask with a sly smile. I know that sparkle in her eyes. She wants to go to bed, and she isn't sleepy.

**WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15, 2007**

**BACKYARD POOL**

**RABB HOME**

**0540**

I'm swimming laps in our pool. In fact, I've already been at it for about twenty minutes.

I woke up before the alarm, dreading this day - Mattie leaves today - but, at the same time, I want to get it over with.

After consulting AAA and taking their recommendation to travel the first leg of their trip in the evening hours so that they'd avoid traveling in the heat of the day when they crossed the desert, Mattie and Tom are leaving this evening.

Mattie's been packing what she wants to take for the last week or so, but, today, they'll be packing the car while we're at work.

Tom doesn't look at all well, so Frank is coming by to help them get the car loaded.

We're going to have dinner together, and then after dinner, our family activity time tonight will be spent in wishing Mattie well and sending her off to college.

"Do you mind some company this morning?" I hear Mattie ask from the side of the pool.

I look up, and she's standing there, waiting for my answer.

"No, I don't mind. The water's fine. Come on in."

Mattie gets in the water, and we swim laps without speaking. Sharing this time in the pool is a type of farewell. It isn't emotional, but it is meaningful, nonetheless. In fact, it means so much to me, that, when the alarm on my watch tells me that it's time to head inside, I want to ignore it...and we do ignore the alarm while we swim one more lap.

We're drying off by the side of the pool when Mattie speaks.

"You know that Grandpa gave me the Neon last night that I've been driving while I've been here, don't you? He said that, since it was Mac's birthday, he didn't want to make a big deal out of giving it to me. I didn't want to take it because it was such an expensive gift, but he said that he'd talked to you and Mac about it, and it was okay with you."

"He did talk to us and, yes, we agreed that, though it was a generous gift, he had our permission to give it to you."

"Thanks. I know that it'll be more reliable than my dad's old truck," she says with a smile.

"Reliable, good on gas, and he needs the car out of the way so that he can buy a minivan to haul his grandchildren around...those were some of the reasons that Frank gave us for wanting to give it to you."

We both laugh, and then there's an awkward silence for a moment before she speaks again.

"He's dying, you know...my dad, I mean."

"I know," I say.

"Even though I'm leaving, when he's gone, I'll still have you and Mac, right?"

"The change in your location, our location, or your father's health status doesn't change the fact that you're part of this family. You'll always have a place with us. You're our daughter, period, no conditions."

A moment later, she's got her arms wrapped around me, and I wrap my arms around her, knowing that I may get one more hug this evening before she actually leaves, but right now, unlike this evening, there's no one else around, so it's our private dad and daughter moment, and I take full advantage of it.

When she starts to pull away, I speak. "I know that I'm not very good at saying it, but I've been working on it. Mattie, I love you."

She throws herself against me again and hugs me tightly. "I love you, too."

A heartbeat later, the moment is over. It's time to start the day.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1845**

The children told us that my mother and Frank had come by and stayed most of the day, but they were gone before Mac and I got home.

Of course, the smell of pot roast, one of Mattie's favorite dinners coming from the kitchen when we came into the house would have given us the heads up that at least my mother had been here without the children telling us about their visit.

Though I knew that Frank was coming to help load the car and I figured that my mother would at least drop by to bid Mattie farewell, I didn't know why Frank and my mother had stayed all day until Mattie filled us in.

She said that they'd come to pass along words of advice and wisdom while they'd helped her pack up the car, and they didn't want either Mac or me to spend a lot of Mattie's last evening with us preparing a meal, so my mom had put a pot roast in the oven, saying that it was her last chance to cook for Mattie, for a while at least.

I don't know that my mother should've bothered. No one ate much.

Now it's time for the hard part. Mattie is sitting with Ty and the girls on the couch, talking to them again about where she's going.

Of course, Ty is from Virginia, so he knows where she's going. He just wants to be with her for as long as he can.

I'm watching Mattie with her young siblings when Tom announces, "Mattie, we should get going."

I feel the knot that's been in my stomach all day start to tighten.

The moment that I've been dreading all day has arrived.

After one last hug between Mattie and her siblings, she stands up. "I'm ready to go."

**DRIVEWAY **

**MINUTES LATER**

"Don't look so sad. This isn't goodbye. Good luck, Mattie, on the journey into your future." Mac has to stop for a moment and take a breath to keep her emotions under control. "I hope that you find what you're looking for out there. We love you," Mac says before she pulls Mattie into a hug.

When they release their hold on each other, I see the tears in Mac's eyes when I step up to have my last moment with Mattie for awhile.

I stand in front of Mattie and I'm at a loss as to what to say, and we end up in our second hug of the day before we've said a word.

When she pulls away, she says, "I know, it isn't goodbye, but good luck on my journey."

"Exactly, and, Mattie, now isn't our time, but your fear will fade eventually and, when you're ready, I'll be there, and we'll have our chance at adventure."

"Promise?" she asks.

Tom's voice breaks into our moment. "Mattie, let's go."

I look towards Tom, and Mac is standing near him with a very serious expression on her face. I don't know if she said anything to him or not, but he looks very uncomfortable.

This time during our hug, I whisper to Mattie, "I promise."

I'm standing with my arm around Mac's waist on the sidewalk at the edge of the driveway, returning the wave that Mattie is giving us through the open window.

When the car is no longer visible, I ask Mac if she said something to Tom or if just her presence had made him nervous.

"I told him that he'd better not let her down this time and that, if he did, he'd have to answer to me ... and if that didn't worry him at the moment, he should remember that I'm not going to be pregnant forever."

I laugh. "That's my Marine."

"You okay, Sailor?"

"I'll make it. You ready to go back inside? I have a feeling that there are three little people in there who are just as upset as we are."

"Yeah, let's go inside. I think that a group hug is in order."

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**ABIGAIL'S BEDTIME**

Mac is about to tuck in Abigail before I play her a song, but she has a question for us.

"Before you tuck me in, may I say a prayer?" Abigail asks.

"Of course you may," Mac replies, sounding surprised that Abigail would ask.

Maybe attending church with the kids is something that Mac and I need to discuss.

I watch as our little girl gets down on her knees beside her bed and places her palms together.

"Dear God, I know that I haven't been to Sunday school since I had to live in the home and I haven't said my prayers since I came to live here, so I hope that you can still hear me. I just wanted to tell you that my big sister went on a long trip today. I wanted to ask you to keep her safe, please. Amen."

Abigail gets up and gets into bed again, and Mac pulls up her covers and kisses her on the forehead.

That was a very nice prayer, Abigail. I think that I'll say the same one tonight."

"Me, too," I add before lifting my guitar to my lap to play her a song.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**A SHORT TIME LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

I enter our room from the bathroom to find Harm lying back on the bed like he was in the hotel room a few nights ago, only tonight he has on his pajama pants instead of his boxers.

He hasn't looked at me. He seems to be deep in thought.

"Are you thinking about something in particular?" I ask.

"I was thinking about Abigail's prayer tonight," Harm replies.

"What was wrong with it? I thought it was very sweet," I comment.

"There wasn't anything wrong with it. She just mentioned not going to Sunday school or having said a nightly prayer in a while," Harm says more like he's thinking out loud than talking to me.

"Tomorrow, we can tell her that it's okay with us if she says a prayer every night. Do you think that we should find a Sunday school to attend?" I ask as I get into bed. "My parents weren't exactly church-goers. The only time that I went to Sunday school was when a friend invited me along. So, what do you think?" I ask.

"I don't know, but it seems like something that we should consider. My mom and I went to church together when I was a kid, but I kind of lost my faith as a teenager when I'd prayed for so long that my dad would come home and when I didn't find him when I went to Vietnam. Of course, I realize now that it wasn't God's fault, but, at the time... About the only time that I've gone to a church service in recent years has been on Christmas Eve. The only other times that I've gone have been for weddings, funerals and for little AJ's christening. As parents, I guess it is our responsibility to see that they develop a religious faith. Tomorrow night after dinner, maybe we should talk to them about going to Sunday school," Harm suggests.

I smile down at my husband. "I doubt that Sami will want to go, but only because the word school is in there."

"Yeah, she isn't too happy that she'll start preschool in a few weeks," Harm says in a melancholy tone.

"Harm, she'll be fine."

"That's how it starts, you know. They're home with you one day, and then they start preschool, and the next thing you know, they're going off to college," Harm says and then sighs heavily.

I bow my head. "Dear Lord, we pray that you'll keep Mattie safe on her journey."

"Keep a careful watch over all of our children and keep them all safe," Harm adds before we say "Amen" simultaneously at the end.

I lean down and place a kiss on his lips.

"Good night, Harm."

"Good night, Mac."


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - GROWING PAINS**

**PROLOGUE **

**FRIDAY, APRIL 6, 2007**

**SAILOR OF THE QUARTER LUNCHEON**

**O-CLUB**

**32ND STREET NAVAL BASE**

PO First Class Brian Fulton, who was thrilled at the honor of being named his command's Sailor of the Quarter, stood beside his wife of seven years while being congratulated by a receiving line of his superiors, followed by his peers.

Mindy Fulton loved her husband very much, but being his second wife had come with a price, a very high price - between alimony and child support, there wasn't much left of his salary to afford her even a few nice things.

For the event today, she'd had to go to a used clothing store to buy some spoiled brat's prom dress, which, with a snip here and a tuck and stitch there, she'd recycled into a cocktail dress. Mindy had done a good job, too. Everyone was complimenting her on the dress. Everyone always complimented her on her good taste, whether it was her clothing or their home's decor. She'd made sure that, this afternoon when her husband was being honored, it had been no different.

Mindy stood up straight and rigid as PO Bradley 'Brad' Sherman and his wife, Janet, came next in line.

"Hello, Janet," Mindy said as the men exchanged words.

"Mindy, I'm so happy for you and Brian. You must be so proud of him. This is quite an honor."

"Yes, I'm very proud of him."

"Mindy, I'm holding a little get together next week. Do you think that you and Brian will be able to attend?"

"I don't think so, Janet. Brian's son is out of school this month, so we won't have him on only the weekends. We'll have him the whole month, so I don't know if Brian will want to leave him while we go to a party. Maybe, the following week we could do something at our house."

"It isn't like his son is a toddler. You could bring him with you. I don't want to hold up the line...talk it over with Brian and, if you can make it, give me a call ... and, if you plan something for the following week, let me know. I love to attend your parties. They're always so...I don't know...perfect," Janet gushed, and Mindy beamed.

Mindy liked the exposure of being at the officer's club and, with the attention that her husband was receiving, she was sure that he was a shoo-in to make chief at the next board selection. She'd just have to see what she could do to make sure that it happened.

After the receiving line, she'd mingle with some of the upper crust and play on the political nature of the higher ranks.

Brian Fulton was in awe of how his wife could work a room. She could easily put on the airs of the snobbish style of some officers' wives and, a moment later, begin to exchange recipes with a seaman's wife. He'd seen her do it before at command Christmas parties, but here today, he watched as she worked this room. He knew that her social graces would make her the woman behind the man who was going to make chief at the next selection board.

**FRIDAY, APRIL 20, 2007**

Mindy was graciously hosting another Friday night get together. Though budget restrictions kept them to once a month, she liked to have people over. She took great joy in the compliments that people bestowed upon her.

There were many reasons why Brian Fulton didn't like the fact that he'd been divorced. For one, he felt that having had his first marriage end was a sign that he'd failed, and he didn't like to fail at anything. For another, he didn't like not living with his son. Sure, a father in the Navy isn't home all the time, but there is a difference between being gone on deployment and not living with him at all. His son was turning fourteen the last week of this month, and Brian was aware that a boy of that age was going to have more than a few growing pains that his father should be around to help him through. Perhaps it was time to speak to his ex-wife about a change in the custody arrangements.

The sight of Mindy carrying a fresh tray of appetizers to the buffet pulled Brian from his thoughts. It was days like two weeks ago when Mindy had stood by him as he'd been given the Sailor of the Quarter honor and it was nights like tonight when she didn't complain about her limited budget, but threw a magnificent party that made Brian Fulton wish that he could give his wife something special.

A good piece of jewelry, a fine piece of art, a trip or perhaps the honeymoon that they'd never had - he didn't know exactly what, but she deserved to have something special. That's why he was hoping to make chief. The increase in his pay would allow him to give Mindy something special for standing beside him these last seven years without a single complaint.

He noticed his wife talking to two other ladies and was about to move over to join them when his son, Justin, entered the living room.

"Justin, have you had anything to eat yet?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, Mindy made me a pizza before everyone showed up so I wouldn't have to come out of my room if I didn't want to, but I thought that I'd come out to see if anything was happening out here and grab a soda. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. In fact, there are a couple of people who've asked about you. Let your dad show you off and introduce you to a few people."

The arrival of his son had changed Brian's line of thought, so he didn't make it over to hear the conversation between his wife and the other two ladies.

**A PORTION OF THE THREE LADIES CONVERSATION**

"Mindy, I have to say that I'm jealous. I'm one of those women who's a slave to paint color to make a room, but you've managed to leave the walls the boring bone color that the government paints these little boxes of ours and add the right touches of color around the room to make it feel warm and inviting. Do you have any interior design experience or are you a natural Martha Stewart?"

"My mother had an eye for color. I guess I got it from her. I'm certainly not the Martha Stewart type, or you wouldn't be eating appetizers from the freezer section," Mindy said with a smile.

It was Mindy's way of not letting out her secret about her restrictive budget. She'd found that if you told your guests the truth, that they were eating inexpensive finger foods from the freezer section, but did it with a little smile or a light laugh, they rarely believed you. They thought that you were just being modest or teasing them.

"If anyone should be jealous, it's me. That gorgeous ring of yours makes me green with envy," Mindy said to the woman who'd complimented her.

"It is nice, isn't it?" the woman said as she fanned out her hand, admiring the nice two carat diamond with two swirls of emeralds, one in front and one in back. "Andy gave it to me for our twentieth anniversary. I couldn't believe it when I opened it. It's without a doubt my favorite gift that he's ever given me."

"If I were you, I'd be afraid to wear it out in public. You can't be too careful these days," Mindy commented.

"I don't wear it out except to parties like this little cocktail party that you've put together this evening."

"I don't have anything of value yet. That's the trouble with being the second wife - the ex-wife and children get half of his paycheck before he even sees it, but in case I ever do, tell me. Is it as big a pain to go to your bank box to get it so that you can wear it as I'd think it would be?"

"A bank box...oh, you mean a safety deposit box. I wouldn't know. I have only the one piece, so it hardly seems necessary to go to the trouble of getting a box at the bank. So, until Andy gets me a few more pieces, I'll just keep it at home in a special place."

Mindy wished that she had something worthy of even putting in a special place, but it was never going to happen as long as Brian was paying alimony and child support. She was just going to have to continue to use her skills and flair to make high-fashion designer-looking pieces out of items that she'd found in bargain bins, second-hand stores and garage sales until their financial situation changed.

**DINING TABLE**

**FULTON HOME**

**FRIDAY, JUNE 15, 2007**

Brian Fulton sat down at the table ready to eat. Dinner smelled wonderful, but then, it always did.

Brian watched the nice way that Justin pulled out the chair for his step-mother.

So many of the divorced guys who he'd met since his divorce had told him horror stories, but Mindy and Justin got along more like mother and son.

In fact, everyone was getting along so well that it was hard to believe that Justin had already been living with them for eight weeks.

The smooth transition just solidified Brian's belief that his son belonged with him, even though he'd found it odd that his ex-wife, Sharon, hadn't put up much of a fight. She'd agreed with him that Justin was getting to the age where it would be better if he spent more time with his father.

Since Sharon had been so cooperative, he just knew that he'd made the right decision and had gone to see a JAG officer the next day to have a legal change in the custody arrangement made for Justin.

Justin would reside with his father for the next fourteen months, the remainder of his father's current shore duty assignment. The agreement outlined everything: physical custody, the suspension of child support to Sharon while Justin was in the full-time care of his father and visitation arrangements for his mother.

It all had been so easy that the paperwork had been completed by the end of April, and Justin had gone to his mother's for his birthday, but had returned to his father's house and started at a new school at the beginning of May.

Mindy's voice penetrated his thoughts...

"Brian, Brian...are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was telling you that I saw one of our neighbors at the commissary this afternoon. She said that her home had been burglarized. They took the brooch that her grandmother had given her and a crystal vase that they'd received as a wedding present. They took a couple of other things, but she said that they didn't hold the same value to her as those two pieces. She said that, when she made her report, the police told her that there's been a series of thefts in the area over the last five weeks. She said that she'd already warned some of our other neighbors, like the Montgomerys, to store anything of value somewhere else and make sure to keep their doors and windows locked.

"I wonder if that's who got Janet's ring," Brian commented as if thinking aloud.

"What? Someone stole that beautiful ring of Janet's?" Mindy asked in shock.

"I didn't mention it...sorry. I meant to tell you. Brad told me last week. I think it was when they were going out to meet friends at some fancy restaurant. Janet went to get her ring and - it was missing," Brian explained.

"She must be devastated. She loved that ring. I hope that she had insurance," Mindy said with a sigh.

"I don't know. They may have. I didn't ask. Let's move on to a more pleasant dinner topic. Justin, didn't you have a math test today?" Brian asked.


	35. Chapter 35

**PART ONE **

**MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2007**

**NCIS INTERROGATION ROOM**

**0450**

**HARM'S POV**

I like being a lawyer, but I sometimes hate this job.

The house phone rang in the middle of the night. Agent Michaels needed for me to meet him here while he questioned a suspect. He'd apologetically said that he wouldn't have awakened me had it not been for the age of the suspect. He'd said that he'd feel more comfortable with someone present who'd be sure that the interrogation didn't get too heavy-handed and that the letter of the law was being followed as he questioned the minor.

I look at my watch to see how long we've been sitting here listening to the young man repeat, "I didn't do it."

After looking at my watch, I know that part of it isn't being awakened in the middle of the night or the repeated denials by the young man that he's innocent that has me a little impatient this morning.

I have a little girl at home who'll be getting up pretty soon to have her breakfast before getting ready for her first day of preschool, and I want to be there to help her with this new change in her life.

Sami usually adjusts quite easily to change, but, for some reason, she's very apprehensive about starting preschool.

Maybe she thinks that she's going to have homework like her big brother and sister, I muse to myself. Well, whatever the reason, I want to be there.

Agent Michaels starts back at the beginning. "PO Fulton, your son, Justin, was seen climbing out of a window just after one this morning. When he was approached, he fled. After speaking to the occupants of the home, the woman says that her necklace is missing."

PO Fulton quickly jumps in to defend his son. "But you said that you didn't find the necklace on him when you searched his person after you caught him."

"Maybe he dropped it when he ran, or maybe he saw us before we saw him and hid it in a bush or something, planning to go back for it later," Michaels explains.

"I didn't steal anything," Justin cries out.

"Then tell us, son. Why were you leaving the Montgomery home through a window in the middle of the night?" Agent Michaels asks.

"I...I can't tell you," Justin says, sounding resigned to his fate.

Justin buries his face in his hands.

Brian Fulton tries to console his son by rubbing his back. He speaks softly, reassuringly. "Son, you need to tell them why you were there."

Justin doesn't look up. He just shakes his head. "No, I can't."

"Look, we've been at this for just over an hour. Let's give his father time to talk to him. We can resume questioning him after they've had some time alone," I suggest.

**OUTSIDE THE INTERROGATION ROOM**

**TWO MINUTES LATER**

"What's with letting them talk alone? We should stay on him," Michaels says to me after we've left the interrogation room.

"No, he's fourteen, and in the grand scheme of things, this one isn't the worst crime that he could have committed."

"What is it with you, Rabb? You want us to let the kid go?"

"No, if he committed these burglaries, then he needs to be punished for them. However, I think that there are other ways to get information in the off-chance that he's telling the truth."

"What are you suggesting?" Michaels asks.

"For one thing, I know that you spoke with Mrs. Montgomery about the boy being in her house and to find out if anything was missing, but did you see or speak to a young Montgomery in the house? Perhaps he was leaving after visiting a friend."

"Through a window…?"

"Hey, it was what ... one something in the morning? A bedroom window doesn't make the noise that a front door makes. Another thing, you told me that your people gave chase, but didn't catch up with young Mr. Fulton until he was trying to climb back into the window of his room, the way that he presumably got out of his house, correct?"

"Yeah ... so?"

"So, I suggest that you get a search warrant to search the Fulton home while father and son are chatting. I understand that Justin lives with his father and step-mother. You need to question her, too. She might have a different slant on Justin's behavior than his father does since she's an 'outsider' so to speak."

"Not bad, Rabb. You were so antsy in there that I didn't think that you were paying attention. You want to tag along? Maybe we can wrap up this series of burglaries today."

"No, there's something that I need to do while you're doing that. I'll check in with you when I get back."

I'm not telling him that the reason why I was being 'antsy' is because I want to be at home because my little girl is having a case of growing pains. She doesn't want to go to her first day of preschool and, to help with her anxiety, I wanted to take her, but it wasn't looking like I was going to be able to do that. However, I'm headed home now.

**RABB HOME**

**0558**

I enter the house, not to the cries that I'd thought I'd hear, but to an eerie silence. Were the kids not up yet? A quick check of my watch told me that they should be.

I decide to go to the kitchen first. If everyone is up, I'll find Mac in the kitchen, deciding what to make for breakfast.

**KITCHEN**

**0600**

I walk in the kitchen to find my wife at the refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of milk and some eggs.

I'm about to say something when she uses her elbow to push the door to the fridge closed and I get a profile look at my very pregnant wife.

At seven and a half months, Mac has entered the stage of her pregnancy where, if I give her a compliment like 'you're beautiful,' she smiles and says 'you're sweet' in a tone that gives me the definite impression that she doesn't believe me.

I'm so focused on Mac that I don't notice that Abigail is in the kitchen, too, until I hear her ask Mac. "Are we going to have toast?"

"I don't know. Do you want toast or biscuits with your eggs this morning?" Mac asks as she puts the milk jug and egg carton down on the counter.

"Biscuits are better," Abigail answers.

"Then, I'll get out the pans and the bowl that we need while you get the can of biscuits out of the fridge, okay?"

It's nice to watch Abigail moving around the kitchen, helping out like this. She's really started to settle in these last few weeks.

Mac's blood pressure has remained stable since the scare that had her at home resting, but her doctor hasn't suspended her weekly visits. Of course, the advantage of weekly visits is that, while the children were out of school last month, we were able to take them one at a time to hear the baby's heartbeat.

Between the ultrasound pictures and hearing the baby's heartbeat for themselves, it's seemed to have given our three youngest a closeness with the baby that they didn't have before. They seem to be more excited about having a baby brother soon, even Tyler. However, the change in Abigail has been the most obvious.

I don't know if it was the departure of her older sister that allowed her to become the 'big girl' of the house, that she's had a couple of months to settle into the family, or if she's just fascinated with the fact there's a baby inside Mac's tummy, but she's Mac's constant companion from the moment that she's awake until the moment Mac leaves her room before I play her a song each night.

Though she's constantly near Mac, Abigail doesn't seem clingy. She seems interested in Mac's health and in gathering information. She asks questions like, "When the baby moves, does it hurt?"

One night, Mac mentioned that the backs of our dining room chairs weren't comfortable on her back and she wished that they had a little more padding to them. The next night, Abigail set the table and then, getting the pillow from her bed, she placed it against the back of Mac's chair.

Abigail has even become a little bossy, telling Sami and Ty that Mac needs to rest. She seems to want to take care of Mac and the baby. I hadn't thought about it before, but she seems to be becoming more and more like me every day, I think with a grin.

I've been enjoying watching and listening to Mac and our daughter interact while making breakfast, but a pained look on Mac's face as she places a pan and bowl down on the counter next to the milk and eggs has me stepping into the room.

"Mac, you okay?" I ask.

Mac doesn't offer a vocal response. She simply nods affirmatively that she's okay.

"Mac says that she's having growing pains," Abigail offers in explanation.

"Abigail, will you go make sure that your sister is up and tell her that I'm here to take her to preschool, please?" I ask.

"But I'm helping Mac make breakfast," Abigail replies.

"It won't take you long, and I'll help her while you're gone," I assure her.

"Okay," she replies and scurries off to do as I asked.

While Abigail makes her way out of the kitchen, I move closer to Mac. Once Abigail is on her way, I speak.

"Mac, are you sure that you're okay? You looked like you were in real pain."

"I'm fine, Harm. They come and go with no pattern. You remember what the doctor said on Thursday. I'm experiencing Braxton Hicks – no big deal. It's just that they come out of nowhere and they catch me off guard. I've found that, when I'm standing up, they seem to hurt more. I know that the doctor said that I should try changing positions, but they don't last very long, and depending on what I'm doing at the time they come, I sometimes find it easier to practice those breathing techniques that we learned in class and just ride it out until it passes."

"What was that about growing pains that Abigail mentioned?"

"I told her that the baby was growing and that the little pains were him letting me know that he's almost ready to be born."

I must have an expression on my face that she doesn't like because she snaps at me, "If you can come up with a better way to explain Braxton Hicks to a six year old, then you talk to her."

"Mac, I wasn't criticizing. I just want to make sure that I understand what she's talking about. I don't have a lot of credibility with her yet. If I say something that's in opposition to something that you've said, I'll lose whatever progress I've made with her over the last couple of months. I was just trying to be sure that I knew what she meant to avoid that, that's all."

While I'm administering a kiss to Mac's forehead, she whispers, "I'm sorry."

"No apology necessary," I get out before Abigail returns with Sami.

"Daddy, Mommy said you had to work so she was taking me to school," Sami says the moment that she's entered the kitchen.

"I was at work, but I came home to take my ladybug to her first day of preschool," I say with a grin and catch her up in my arms as she runs to me.

"Really?" she asks excitedly.

"Really," I answer, noticing that Abigail has made it back to Mac's side to help with breakfast.

**NCIS**

**0853**

I had informed my staff that I'd be late this morning so that I could take Sami to her first day of preschool, but the call about two this morning had me concerned that I wouldn't be able to take her after all.

It had been a little iffy at first, but after tagging along behind her for about ten minutes, Sami had turned around and told me that I could go to work. She could 'make it' until Sofia, the nanny, came to pick her up. I think the turning point came when she met a couple of the other girls in her class. I gave her a hug, asked her if she was sure that she wanted me to leave and, when she said yes, I told her that I loved her and that I was expecting a full report on her first day when I saw her at home tonight.

'Now that I've taken care of my little girl, I can focus on the task of putting an end to the burglaries that have been plaguing one of the military housing communities in our area,' I think as I approach Agent Michaels outside the interrogation room.

**OUTSIDE INTERROGATION ROOM **

"Hey, Rabb, I called your office, and they said that you were out this morning on personal business," Michaels says.

"Yeah, something that I'd planned to do before someone caught young Mr. Fulton sneaking out of a window this morning. Bring me up to speed on what's happened while I've been out of the office."

"I've got nothing. He's said nothing, unless you count his repeating that he didn't do anything. The team found ten boxes in the garage filled with miscellaneous things. They brought the boxes in to go through. They told me that Mrs. Fulton said that they were items that she'd bought from second-hand stores or garage sales, but they also said that, the moment they got near them, Mrs. Fulton seemed to get jittery."

"Then I guess it's time to let father and son go. If you haven't obtained a confession in the last four hours, you aren't likely to get one. Until we come up with a piece of the missing loot or some other link to Justin Fulton and the stolen goods, the case is in limbo."

Michaels nods before opening the door to the interrogation room. He enters, and I follow him inside.

"I'm going to give you one more chance, Justin. Things will be easier for you if you'll just tell us what we want to know. We've searched your house. We found boxes of stuff in the garage. I have a team going through it as we speak and comparing items with our list of stolen property. We're going to figure this out and, and when do, we'll be a lot tougher on you unless you tell us what we want to know."

"For the hundredth time, I didn't steal anything," the boy wails.

"PO Fulton, this case isn't closed. Your son is the prime suspect in a series of burglaries that's been going on for about five months. If you know anything about his activities, I suggest that you tell us," I say.

"He's a good kid. He's never been in trouble...even when his mother and I were getting a divorce and it might have given him an excuse to act out. He just wouldn't do anything like this," PO Fulton replies.

"Do you know why he was at the Montgomery home in the middle of the night?" I ask.

"No, I don't, but I'm sure that it wasn't to steal anything," the petty officer says adamantly.

"You can take your son and go home for now, but we'll be in touch," Michaels says.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME **

**BED TIME**

I chose to do a little work after getting the children in bed tonight, so when I come into our bedroom from the den, Mac is already in bed and reading a book.

"What are you reading?" I ask as I close the bedroom door behind me.

"Another baby book…Harm, I don't think that I'm ready for this yet," she says as she rubs her hand over her comforter-covered stomach.

"Well, you don't have to be ready today. You've got six more weeks," I say as I pull my shirt over my head.

"I don't know if I'm going to be ready then either. There are just so many decisions to make. The baby isn't even here yet, and we've had to make decisions on how we want the baby to be born, such as having a water birth or not, and whether or not you're going to be present. So now, the book says that it's time to start thinking about the first few days of his life and lists another set of things to decide on, like his name, do we want him circumcised and is he going to be bottle or breast-fed. It's all too much."

"Mac, this isn't like you. You want to tell me what's really troubling you?" I ask while slipping off my pants.

"I don't know what's bothering me," she replies with a sigh.

"Is there such a thing as pre-delivery jitters? I mean, most people have pre-wedding jitters," I say in a teasing tone as I get into bed.

"I don't think that they have a technical name for it. I just think that they call it being scared," she replies. "I mean, it's getting close. Six weeks sounds like a long time, but it really isn't. I guess I'm a little nervous about everything...making the wrong choices...about giving birth. You know that it's something that I've never done before."

I think that we've uncovered the true source of her concern, and it isn't about making decisions. I'll bet that she hadn't thought much about delivery day until this past Thursday. It would've started at her doctor's appointment that afternoon when the doctor had explained that Braxton Hicks contractions were 'practice contractions' for the big day. Our next to last Lamaze class had been that evening. After we'd spent a few minutes practicing the breathing techniques that we'd learned in previous weeks, we'd watched a film showing a real birth.

I slip an arm around her shoulders and give her a little squeeze. "You're going to be fine. I'll be right there with you ... unless you don't want me there," I say with some trepidation.

"I want you there. You want to be there, right? I mean, you aren't just saying that you want to be there because you think that's what you're supposed to say because the other fathers at the class said that they were going to be there, are you?"

"I want to be there. You've been getting acquainted with the newest Rabb for almost eight months, and I'm eager to meet the little guy."

"Are you feeling any anxiety about the baby coming?" she asks.

"Not so much about the delivery, but that could be because you have the hard part." That remark gets her to smile a little. "It has crossed my mind in the last few months that the decisions that we need to make for our little guy were handled by someone else with our other children, and I've wondered on more than one occasion if I should have settled for being a dad and left being a father to other men. However, something always happens to make me see the light. Like this morning, watching you in the kitchen with Abigail, I know that, as long as my child has you for a mother, he's going to be okay."

"You know what's funny?" she asks.

"No, what?"

"I came to a similar conclusion. With you as his father, I don't have anything to worry about."

She gives me just a peck of a kiss on my lips before she moves the book that she was reading over to the night table.

"I don't want all of this delivery stuff in my head before I go to sleep. It might give me nightmares. Take my mind off of it by telling me what's so important about this case that they dragged you out of bed in the middle of the night," she says as she turns off her light.

I turn off my light and wait until she's settled into her place next to me before I answer her question.

"It wasn't so much the case as the age of the suspect that caused our phone to ring this morning. A teenager was seen sneaking out of a neighbor's window in the middle of the night. He ran and got caught. A necklace is missing from the house that he was seen leaving, making him the prime suspect in a rash of burglaries that have been happening in the area over the last five months. Michaels just wanted me there for the questioning."

"Do you think that the kid did it?"

"I don't know. I was preoccupied about getting home to take Sami to preschool when he was being questioned. However, after hearing at dinner that Sami is excited to go to preschool tomorrow to see her new friend, I went into the den to read over the file that Michaels gave me. I have a few questions now. For one thing, they found ten boxes of miscellaneous stuff in the garage during the search of the boy's home. I didn't hear that they'd found anything that matched with anything on the list of stolen goods, so I'll have to check with Michaels in the morning to see if they got through all the boxes. If they did and came up empty, then Michaels doesn't have a case for burglary against the kid."

Mac pats my arm that I've slipped over her side in order to rest my hand over our baby while I've been talking. "Then it sounds like you're going to have another busy day, so let's get some sleep," she says, sounding tired.

I place a kiss on her cheek and whisper "Good night, Beautiful" in her ear before I place my head down on the pillow next to hers for a night of sweet dreams.


	36. Chapter 36

**PART TWO **

**TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2007**

**NCIS MORNING MEETING**

**0815**

**HARM'S POV**

After opening comments, Director Landon starts with the business of the day.

"Agent Michaels, I hear that you and Rabb were questioning a young man yesterday morning about that string of burglaries that we've been trying to solve. What's the status of that case now? You got the right guy?"

"I'm not sure, Sir. He was certainly in the right place, but we've searched seven of the ten boxes that we took from the home to examine more closely for the stolen items and we've come up empty. I went to the kid's school, and he's a good student. There's nothing to suggest that he's a troubled kid and there's no physical evidence that he took the necklace from the house that we caught him leaving or that he was involved in any of the other burglaries at this point. Though, I do think that he knows something that he isn't telling us."

"Why don't you and Captain Rabb have a little chat with the boy without the formality of the interrogation room? Perhaps, if he's a good kid who's taken up with a bad crowd, he needs a softer touch to get him to talk, and I'd wait until this afternoon when he's home from school. That way, if the hooligans are someone with whom he attends school, he won't be apprehensive that they might see him talking to the cops."

"Yes, Sir," Michaels says, none to happy about being instructed on how to handle his suspect.

"Yes, Sir," I reply, wondering how old Director Landon is…I mean, he said "hooligans."

**FULTON HOME**

**1515**

Michaels knocks on the front door of the Fulton home.

"Look, Rabb, I respect what you did when you took out Sinclair, and I hear around the office that you're a pretty good investigator in your own right, but this is my case. I want you to just mind the legal stuff and leave the detective work to me, okay?"

I guess being told that he should interview a suspect in a different environment wasn't the only thing that got to Michaels. It doesn't sound like he's happy to have me along, either. However, I don't get a chance to reply to him because the door opens.

"Mrs. Fulton, I'm Special Agent Michaels and this is Captain Rabb. We're with NCIS. We'd like to talk to Justin."

"Well, he won't be home from school for a few minutes yet," Mrs. Fulton offers.

"I have a few questions for you, too, Mrs. Fulton. May we come in so that I can ask you those questions while we wait for Justin?" I ask, which gets me a dirty look from Michaels.

"There were agents here before, asking me questions and searching the house. I didn't know anything then and I don't know anything now," Mrs. Fulton replies firmly.

"I understand that you don't want to get Justin in any kind of trouble, but I'm not sure that your step-son committed any crime. By answering my questions, you may actually be able to help clear up a few things and help Justin in the process," I explain.

"Come in," she says a little reluctantly before stepping aside to let us enter her home.

Once we've entered her home, she closes the door. "We should have a seat in the living room. It'll be more comfortable."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I'd prefer a dining table," Michaels says, lifting a notepad portfolio. "I find it easier to take notes at a table, if you don't mind."

He does like to sit at a table to take notes, but the fact that the living room can be seen from the front door and the dining table can't is more of a factor. He doesn't want the boy to see us in the living room as soon as he enters the front door.

"If that's what you'd prefer, follow me," Mrs. Fulton says.

Once we're seated at the dining table, Mrs. Fulton doesn't sit until after she's asked us if she can get us anything to drink, which we both decline.

"Mrs. Fulton, do you know the Montgomery family?" I ask.

"My husband and I throw some kind of get-together here about once a month. They were here last weekend for our end of summer Labor Day party. They're our neighbors, but I wouldn't say that I really know them. Why?"

"I just thought that you might know why Justin was seen leaving their house in the middle of the night," I reply.

"I saw Justin talking to their son at our party last week. Is that important?"

"Might be," Michaels huffs. He isn't at all happy that I've opened my mouth.

Michaels pulls out a picture of Mrs. Montgomery wearing the necklace in question.

"Was Mrs. Montgomery wearing this necklace at your party?" Michaels asks.

"Yes, she was," she answers without hesitation.

The front door opens, and Mrs. Fulton pushes the picture back towards Michaels.

"That should be Justin." Mrs. Fulton raises her voice and calls out to her son, "Justin, will you come into the dining room, please?"

Michaels stands and walks around to the doorway. He's anticipating Justin seeing us and running, so he wants to be in a position that will prevent the chase or at least give him the advantage of taking off from the same point, hopefully making it a short pursuit.

"Hello, Justin," I say from my position in the chair, which draws his attention to me, and he doesn't notice Michaels at first.

"You're the lawyer guy, right?" Justin asks.

"Yes, Justin. This is Captain Rabb. He has questions for you. He doesn't think that you did anything wrong and he wants to help you," his step-mother explains.

"I doubt that. He was with the cop yesterday. He works for them," Justin snaps back.

"I'm still with the cop... " I say, pointing to Michaels behind him. "... but that doesn't mean that we agree. That's why I'm here to ask my own questions."

"What's he here for then?" Justin asks, tilting his head towards Michaels, who has a disgruntled look on his face.

"He's here to ask questions and to observe your body language while I ask my questions. He's got years of experience, so he'll know by the way you act if you're lying to me."

Michaels is smiling now. I don't think that I'm completely out of the doghouse with him, but the compliment should keep us from really going at it over my stepping up to ask questions over his objections.

"Why don't you have a seat, Justin? I don't have a lot of questions, but I want you to be comfortable…and try to relax," I suggest.

Justin sits, and Mrs. Fulton excuses herself to get him something to drink and a snack.

Once Michaels returns to his seat, now that Justin is seated, I begin my questioning of the young suspect.

"Justin, why were you at the Montgomery home in the middle of the night?" I ask.

"I went over there to finish the video game that John and I had been playing earlier…before I had to come home for dinner and do my homework. John has the game system in his room, so he said that I should just climb in his window so I wouldn't disturb his parents."

"Why didn't you tell us that yesterday when we asked?" Michaels asks.

"I wasn't thinking straight. I mean, I'd been caught, not by my parents, but by the police, and then, I'm being accused of stealing stuff. It didn't seem real. I couldn't think clearly."

Michaels and I take turns asking a few more questions, and by the time we're ready to wrap it up, even I believe that the kid knows more than he's telling us.

I try the direct approach with my last question. "Do you know who stole the necklace?"

"No," Justin answers firmly.

"I don't have anything else to ask at the moment. How about you, Agent Michaels? Anything else that you want to ask Justin?"

"I don't have anything else at this time."

We thank Justin and Mrs. Fulton for their time and leave the Fulton home.

We make it several feet from the house before I ask, "Which one of these houses is the Montgomery place?"

"Two doors down," Michaels says, pointing off to the left. "Why?"

"Because I think that you're right. Justin knows more than he's telling. I suspect that he didn't give us the story about video games before because he hadn't thought of it yet, but let's see if he clued in his gaming buddy on the story and ask John Montgomery a few questions."

"Are you going to let me do the asking this time?"

"If you ask the right questions, I won't have any to ask," I answer with a cocky smile.

Michaels just rolls his eyes before heading towards the Montgomery front door.

**MONTGOMERY HOME**

**1540**

I knock on the door, and a woman opens the door just a crack. "Mrs. Montgomery?" Michaels asks.

"Yes," she answers hesitantly.

"I'm Special Agent Michaels with NCIS, and this is Captain Rabb. We'd like to ask your son, John, a couple of questions."

"What's this about?" Mrs. Montgomery asks, still peeking around the edge of the door.

"We just need to verify a few things that Justin Fulton told us about why he was here," Michaels responds.

"That boy is lying if he said that my John had anything to do with stealing our neighbors' things."

"No, ma'am, he didn't say that your son had anything to do with the thefts. If we could just speak with him for a moment, please, we'll be on our way," Michaels states, but I can tell that he's wondering about her defensive posturing.

"Can I be with him when you speak to him?"

"Yes, ma'am," Michaels answers.

"John, come here!" she yells back into the house over her shoulder.

Mrs. Montgomery opens the door a fraction more, and, before a tall young man appears next to her, we can see that she has a black eye.

"John, I'm Agent Michaels with NCIS. This is Captain Rabb. We've just come from speaking with Justin Fulton. He explained why he was at your house, but will you tell us why he was here so late?"

The boy drops his head. "Yes, Sir. He came over to play a video game that we'd started to play earlier, and time just got away from us."

"Did either of you leave your room to get a drink or use the bathroom, anything like that?"

"No, Sir."

"Thank you, John. You've been a big help. We appreciate it."

John nods and disappears back into the house. Not that it's hard for him to leave our line of vision because Mrs. Montgomery didn't open the door more than a few inches even after we'd identified ourselves.

"Mrs. Montgomery, when was the last time you actually saw your necklace?" Michaels asks.

"I wore it to the Fultons' Labor Day party last weekend," she quickly replies.

"So the necklace could have been missing for a couple of days before Justin was caught leaving your home?"

"I suppose," she answers hesitantly.

"Thank you for your time, ma'am," Michaels says.

"No problem. Have a good evening, gentlemen," she says before she shuts the door, not waiting for us to reciprocate.

Agent Michaels and I step off the little concrete stoop. "That was interesting," Michaels says.

"Indeed it was. The boys have either put together a story to back up each other or they're both telling the truth."

As we walk away from the door towards the sidewalk, a car pulls into the Montgomery driveway. A moment later, we hear a man's voice calling from behind us."

"Gentlemen." We turn to see a petty officer who looks haggard and worn. He salutes me, and I return his salute. "I'm PO Montgomery. I live here. Was there a problem here, Captain?" he asks with a scowl.

"No problem, Petty Officer. We're with NCIS. We were just here to fill in some blanks on our report of your wife's missing necklace. We needed to know the last time that she remembered wearing it," I reply.

"She wore it to the Fulton's party last weekend. That had to be when their boy decided to steal it," he says angrily.

"That's a possibility," Michaels answers.

"Do you think that I'll get the necklace back?" he asks, glancing at the house.

"There's no way to be sure, but chances are, if we haven't found it yet, we won't. I'm sorry," Michaels states.

"Well, I'd better get in for dinner. Have a good night, Sirs," he says before saluting me again and turning to head up the walk to his front door.

"You, too, Petty Officer," I say before Michaels and I proceed down the walk to our cars parked at the curb.

We stand at our cars, looking back at the houses. We notice the curtain moving in the front room of the Montgomery home.

"I wonder if it's Mrs. Montgomery or the petty officer who's seeing if we're leaving," Michaels says.

"I don't know, but do you want to make a bet that PO Montgomery is the reason why his wife has a black eye?" I ask.

"I wouldn't take that bet. The petty officer seemed a little hostile, and he asked if _he_ was going to get the necklace back, not 'is my wife' or even 'we'. That's a definite sign of possessive behavior, wouldn't you say? In addition, did you notice how bloodshot his eyes were? I'd say that the man has spent more than a few hours with a beer in his hand over the years, as well."

"I agree," I reply.

"What do you want to tell Landon in the morning?" Michaels asks.

"That we agree that the prime suspect may not be guilty, but that he definitely knows something," I reply.

"I don't know how well that will set with him, but I do think that it's all we really know at the moment. Are you headed home?" he asks.

"Yeah, I knew that we'd be finished with questioning the Fulton kid close to 1600, and I'm closer to home from here than the office, so that's why I told you that I'd meet you here," I explain.

"Then I'll see you in the morning," Michaels says.

"Yeah, see you then," I reply.

We each get into our cars.

I'm parked behind Michaels, so I can see him putting on his seatbelt as I dial Mac's cellphone from mine.

"Hey," she answers softly on the third ring.

"Hey, I've been out in the field and I wanted to call to check on you. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, no growing pains today," she answers cheerily.

"Good. Do you think that you'd be up to giving a young man some legal advice if he called you?"

"If you think that I can help, sure," she replies without hesitation.

"I'll fill you in tonight."

"Okay, I'll see you at the house in a little bit. Drive carefully," she says almost as an afterthought.

"You, too, bye," I reply with a grin.

"Bye," she responds before hanging up.

I flip my phone closed and reach in my briefcase for my card. I take a moment to write Mac's name and number on the back before getting out of my car and going back up to the door of the Fulton home.

I knock and, a few moments later, Mrs. Fulton opens the door.

"Captain, I thought that you were through with questioning Justin."

"I don't have any questions, but I would like to speak with him for a moment if I may."

"I guess," she says hesitantly. Come in."

"No, thank you. It won't take long."

"Okay then, wait here, and I'll go get him."

Less than a minute later, Justin comes out of the house. "Yes, Sir, my mom says that you wanted to speak to me again."

"Look, Justin, do you remember when I told you that Agent Michaels would know if you were lying to us? Well, he senses your dishonesty. However, he doesn't think that you lied exactly. He thinks that you haven't told us everything you know. Now, the problem is that your dishonesty may not be about stealing the necklace. One of his theories is that you didn't steal the necklace, but that you're the person responsible for stealing some or most of the other items, and it was just a coincidence that you were caught coming out of a house that you didn't burglarize. However, my theory is that you aren't lying. You just aren't telling us the _whole_ truth. I think you know something and, out of loyalty to a friend or maybe fear of telling, you're keeping it from us. In my day, it was called ratting someone out or snitching, but whatever they call it now, sometimes you cause more damage by not coming forward. Here's my card. If you want to tell me what it is you know or if you or your parents want to get legal advice, there's a name, Colonel MacKenzie, on the back of the card. She's with JAG and a very good lawyer. You could tell her the information that you have, and she could help you decide what you should do," I explain

He takes the business card that I'm offering. "She'd have to tell you though, wouldn't she?" he asks skeptically.

"No, she'd be your counsel and bound by attorney client privilege not to share the information. Her job would be to act in your best interest. ... Think about it."

He nods and turns to head back inside the house.

I find myself looking towards the Montgomery home as I walk back to my car.

As I get in my car to head home to my family, I wonder if Michaels and I are right. Is the petty officer an abusive alcoholic?

**DEN**

**RABB HOME**

**2140**

Mac enters the den. "What are you doing in here tonight?" she asks curiously.

"Trying to stay on top of things…as you pointed out last night, six weeks isn't really that far away, and I want to be able to take time off to be with you and the baby when it's time to bring the two of you home from the hospital," I say, smiling at her.

"Then, I'll leave you to your work, but don't be too long," she says with a grin.

"No, don't go. I'm glad that you came in to see me. It reminded me that I've got a couple of things that I want to talk to you about."

"You do?"

"Yes, I have one work related and one personal item to discuss with you."

"Business before pleasure…so fill me in on the work item first."

"I wanted to fill you in on Justin Fulton."

"Is he the boy who might call me for legal advice?"

"Yes. He's the boy who we were questioning about the burglaries."

"The one you said that you didn't believe did it?"

"That's the one. I still don't think that he did, but I do think that he knows something. After today, I'm not sure that it's about the burglaries, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that he may know something about what's going on in a neighbor's house."

"Which would be?" she asks.

"I can't be sure, so I won't speculate about it. I will say that he's a smart kid and he knows that, if he tells me and it's criminal, I'll be bound to pursue it. I made sure to tell him that you wouldn't be under the same obligation ... that your obligation as his attorney would be to act in his best interest."

"Okay, if he calls, I'll do what I can to help. Now, what's this about a personal item that you want to discuss with me?"

"Our second anniversary is this Monday. I wanted to do something special, but I know that you've been experiencing some discomfort, so I thought that I should probably let you tell me what you feel up to doing to celebrate this year."

"With the surprise baby shower on Sunday afternoon, I think -"

"You know about your baby shower?" I ask, surprised.

"Let's just say that Jennifer isn't good at keeping secrets. She let it slip while asking me if I'd done any shopping for the baby recently or if I was hoping to get everything at the shower. Don't worry. I know that someone went to a lot of trouble to plan it, and I told her that I'd act surprised. Now, I think that, with my shower on Sunday, what I'd like to do for our anniversary is rest as much as I can this weekend and, on Monday, we can go some place nice for dinner before you bring me home to put my feet up so I can rest some more. Of course, that isn't much of an anniversary celebration for you, but you did ask me what I'd like to do. So, tell me what you'd like."

"I want you to be happy, so your wish for a weekend of rest is my command."

Mac comes over beside me and lowers her head to kiss me. "I love you."

I stand and pull her into a hug. "I love you, so why don't I start helping you to get the rest that you want by tucking you into bed right now?"

"I'd like that," she answers with a sexy smile.


	37. Chapter 37

**PART THREE **

**SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2007**

**DINING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**OVER BREAKFAST **

**HARM'S POV**

"Harm, are you going to go to the grocery store today like usual?" Abigail asks between bites of her pancakes.

"Yes, and the dry cleaners and a few other places. Why?" I ask curiously.

"Tyler says that the bakery lady likes you, and she gives him and Sami a cookie when they go with you to the store, so I wanted to know if you'd take me, too."

"Of course, I'll take you. I would've taken you before, but you've never wanted to go," I say, feeling a need to make it clear that she'd always been welcome to go, but had always declined the invitation.

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**AFTER BREAKFAST**

**MAC'S POV**

Harm and Tyler have been waiting for the girls for four minutes and ten seconds to come and join them so that they can be on their way, but the third time I saw Harm look at his watch, I decided to go check to see what was taking them so long.

If the girls were a little older, I'd think that they were having a hard time deciding on their outfits, but Sami and I pick out her clothes to be worn the following day before she takes a bath each night, and Abigail picks out something by herself before she takes her bath, too, so I can't imagine what's taking them so long.

I walk in the room, and Sami is dressed and sitting on her bed. However, the outfit that Abigail had picked out to wear today has been thrown on the bed, and she's in a different outfit and staring into the closet.

I don't have to ask because Sami volunteers, "She says that she doesn't know what to wear."

"Abigail, the outfit that you picked out yesterday or the one that you're wearing now is fine. Why don't you want to wear one of them?"

"Because I have to look extra nice so that Harm will like me."

"I told her that Daddy already likes us," Sami says, sounding certain, but I can tell by the look on Abigail's face that she doesn't believe her.

I wish that I could get down on my knees to get on her level. However, since I'm almost eight months pregnant, I'm afraid that, if I get down, I won't be able to get back up again.

I decide to sit on the edge of Sami's bed instead and motion for Abigail to join me.

When she's sitting next to me, I say to her, "Abigail, he already likes you. In fact, he loves you both very much."

I added the word 'both' in the last sentence when I saw Sami eyeing me closely. I need to make sure that I don't hurt Sami's feelings while trying to make Abigail feel better.

Abigail looks up at me with her big brown eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure, so why don't you wear the outfit that you have on with the new ballet flats that your grandma bought you last Thursday evening?"

I pull her into a hug. "We both love you very much," I assure her before Sami has her little arms around my neck, hugging me.

"I'll go tell Harm that you'll be ready in a minute," I say as I pat Abigail on the knee.

**KITCHEN**

I enter the kitchen to find Harm alone. "Where's Ty?" I ask.

"He's in the garage, putting the bag of our dirty uniforms in the car. He was starting to get antsy. I needed to give him something to do that made him feel like it was getting close to time to leave. What's taking so long?"

"Sami's ready, but she's waiting for Abigail, who's trying to find the right outfit to wear."

"I know that she's a girl, but isn't she a little young to worry about having on the perfect outfit to run a few errands?" Harm asks.

"For her, today isn't about going to the grocery store. It's about having time with her daddy."

"You think so?" Harm inquires with a raised eyebrow and a hopeful lilt in his voice.

"I just talked to her. I know so. She's ready to get closer to you."

"What should I do?"

His cocky bravado is gone, replaced with sincere curiosity about how to bond with his daughter.

"Go with the flow. Let her come to you…don't push, but don't pull away," I advise him.

"Do you want to come, too, to make sure that I don't screw this up?" he asks nervously.

"You won't screw it up. You'll be fine. You need to do this alone," I reassure him.

"Alone…I'll have two other children with me."

"One step at a time, Harm. First, she'll go with you when you take at least one of the other children, but soon enough, you'll see that she'll go somewhere with just you."

"Okay ... don't push, don't pull and take one step at a time. Anything else that I need to remember?"

"No, that's it."

He steps closer to me. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I don't intend to ever let you find out," I say, gazing up at him.

"Good," he says before his lips meet mine.

As usual, during a time like this, our kiss is interrupted by one of our children.

"Daddy, we're ready," Sami says.

I turn to see that Sami is all smiles, while Abigail is looking away bashfully.

Harm looks over at his girls and smiles. "Then, I guess that we should get going so that Momma can get some rest." He looks back at me. "We'll be out for awhile. Enjoy the peace and quiet, and get some rest."

"Dad, is it time to go yet?" Ty asks, coming in from the garage to see if the girls are ready.

"Yes, go get in the car."

Harm turns back to the girls. "Let's go, ladies. We've got a lot of things to do today." He waits a heartbeat before he continues, "And may I say, Abigail, I think you look very pretty today."

Harm bends down and scoops up Sami to take her to the car. In doing so, he must notice Abigail's new shoes because he asks her, "New shoes?"

'That's a way to turn on the charm with our little princess, Sailor: ask about her new shoes.'

"Yes, Grandma bought them for me on Thursday while you and Mac were going to your last class."

I think that Harm grows at least two inches taller when he takes his first step with Sami towards the garage, and Abigail takes hold of his hand.

**RABB HOME**

**1325**

**HARM'S POV**

Sami fell asleep in the car, so I've taken her to her room and put her to bed.

On the way back to the garage, I peeked into our room and saw Mac asleep on our bed. 'I'm glad that she's getting some rest,' I think as I head back to assist my helpers with unloading the groceries and putting them away.

**KITCHEN**

**1331**

**MAC'S POV**

"I thought I heard you come in," I say as I enter the kitchen.

"Momma, do you feel better?" Ty asks.

"Yes, I do, and I'm dying to know what you've been doing all this time. What do you say, Dad? Can I have them for a little while now?"

"There isn't much left to put away, so I think that they can be excused," Harm says with a smile.

"I'll stay and help you, Dad," Tyler offers.

"Then why don't you and I go talk about what you did with Daddy today, Abigail? You go ahead to the living room and wait for me while I get something to drink."

"Okay," she says as she heads off to the living room.

I move to the refrigerator and open the door, reaching for a container of juice as Abigail leaves the room.

"Dad, if you really don't need any help, can I go over to Larry's to see if he can come over to shoot some hoops?"

"Sure, son, and whether he can play or not, I'll come out in a few minutes and shoot hoops with you for a little while," Harm answers.

Ty then leaves the room to go next door to Larry's.

I walk over closer to Harm and set the container of juice down on the counter, about to speak to him, but he speaks first.

"I'd have brought a glass of juice in to you, but I figure that you don't want the juice as much as you want to ask me how things went." His 'flyboy' smile appears. "It went great!" Then his smile fades some. "At least, I think it did, but I guess when you finish your conference in there, you can tell _me_ how it went."

"Then let me get to it. Will you wait a few minutes and then bring me a glass of juice?"

"I'll finish up in here. That should give you enough time to get the initial report before I bring it to you."

"Thank you," I say before turning around to go visit with Abigail to hear how she feels about her outing with Harm.

**KITCHEN**

**1630 **

I walk in the kitchen and get a nice shot of Harm's six. He's bent over and getting something from one of the lower cabinets.

"I never realized that the view from this angle was so awe inspiring before," I say teasingly.

He stands and turns to look at me. "Is the view better now?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know. They're both pretty inviting," I reply with a grin of my own.

Harm smiles. "Where are the kids?" Harm asks, changing the subject.

"I sent them to wash up if they wanted to help you make dinner. However, while they're out of earshot, I wanted to tell you that you did a fantastic job today. They all had such a good time. Of course, I think the stop for a lunch, complete with French fries and milkshakes, may have been a little over the top."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Abigail wanted to spend time with me, so I thought that we should celebrate that as a special occasion."

"Well, she's talking about going with you next week, too, so be careful that you don't spoil them."

Unable or unwilling to look me in the eye, he says, "I'll try not to, but I'm not making any promises." Then he looks at me and continues, "After lunch, we went to the grocery store before coming home. She held my hand almost the entire time that we were in the store."

Looking at him, I swear that he has the brightest smile that I've ever seen, even from him. I think the big guy is beaming.

"Dad, what's my job?" Ty asks, entering the kitchen.

Over breakfast, Harm told the children that I needed to get some rest this weekend, so, with the first child here to help with dinner, it's time for me to go back to my resting place on the couch and wait for dinner to be served.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

I've been in a light sleep, but feeling Harm get into bed behind me and settle in has me relaxing just that little bit more so that I'll get a restful night's sleep after a wonderful day of resting, relaxing and enjoying time with my family.

**SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2007**

**BURNETT HOME**

**1100**

I know about my surprise party, so the fact that Harm wanted to go to his parents' house earlier than usual for dinner was to be expected, but coming here _this_ early was certainly a surprise.

We walk into the Burnett home in our usual fashion: the children, me and then Harm.

Trish is standing right inside the door, so I guess that she was expecting us this early.

She greets each of her grandchildren, and then I get a big hug, too.

"How are you feeling, darling?" she asks with true concern.

She always reminds me of Eva Gabor from that show "Green Acres" the way she says 'darling'.

"Fine," I reply with a sigh.

"Fine…but ready to have the baby so that Dad can share the load?"

I must look guilty, because she offers her perspective of the situation.

"It's perfectly normal, dear. We have a surprise for you, and then you can go into the living room, put your feet up and get comfortable."

I see that Trish is eyeing Harm, so I turn to look at him, wondering if he was the one who planned my baby shower.

With my eyes pinned on him, he states, "My orders were to get you here…and early so that you two would have a chance to talk before…" Harm's words trail off at the look of warning that he's getting from his mother.

I don't get a chance to analyze if the looks between mother and son are because of the fact that Trish doesn't know that I know about my baby shower before I hear her voice.

"Ma'am, you're here. I'm so glad to see you."

"Harriet!" I say, turning in the direction from which her voice came.

Harriet and I embrace before I look over at Harm. "Is this why you had to go out early this morning?" I ask him.

"Yes, I picked her up at the airport and brought her here. Her bags are in the back of the SUV. She'll be staying with us for a few days.

"This is why we came over so early today, so that Harriet and I could catch up before dinner." That should keep Trish from finding out that I know about the baby shower. "This is wonderful. Let's go sit down, and you can fill us in on everything that's happening at JAG HQ and show us the latest pictures of the children."

Trish has us move from the living room to the dining room for a light lunch at noon.

After lunch, Harm disappears with Sami, presumably to put her down to take a nap.

Trish is leisurely sipping tea with us, but at 1245, I find out that Harm had let in Jennifer Coates when he'd taken Sami to put her down for her nap, and she's been decorating the living room while Trish and Harriet have occupied me with tea and chit chat.

With Jennifer here, I find out that Harriet is my shower planner. I don't know how Harriet managed to coordinate so much from across the country, but I know that Jennifer had to have had a big part in carrying out the plan.

The shower was scheduled for 1300, and the guests started to arrive in a steady stream at 1251. Lieutenants Graves and Mayfield, among a few others from the office, my friend Peggy and her surrogate, who is due before the end of this month, and a few friends of Trish's all arrive by 1310.

**1420**

Harm, Ty and Frank disappeared when the shower began. I'm sure that they've been in Frank's den.

Sami joined the ladies for only a moment when she woke up from her nap before searching out the boys. However, Abigail has been sitting next to me on the couch since the beginning of the shower.

When it was time for the gifts to be opened, Harriet sent for Harm and Frank, so Ty and Sami came, too.

To give Sami a good view of me opening the presents, she's up on Harm's shoulders. Ty is standing off to the side of the couch, uninterested in 'this girl stuff.'

I've started to open the gifts, and, so far, they've been either diapers, blankets, Onesies or gift cards to purchase what we don't have yet - all useful items to fill the empty spaces in his dresser and changing table.

I hear the phone ring, but I don't pay much attention to it. Then Trish says, "It's for you."

I'm surprised when Trish hands me the phone while there are still a few gifts left to open – until I answer.

"Hello."

"Hi, Mac. It's Mattie.

"Mattie ... " I feel Harm's hand on my shoulder from behind the couch. I know that he wants to talk to her.

We received postcards from her during her journey across the country and we've received emails from her almost daily, but this is the first time that she's called, and the sound of her voice reminds me of how much I miss her.

"It's so good to hear from you. How's school?"

"Everything's fine. I'm sorry that I couldn't be there, but I sent a gift."

"You did? You didn't have to do that." Trish is handing me another gift. I look quickly at the gift tag. It's the one from Mattie.

"I'm opening your gift right now," I say while I adjust the phone against my ear to keep it in place with my shoulder so that my hands are free to open the box.

I pull the paper back and look at the baby book. "Mattie, it's beautiful. Thank you."

"You make sure that you keep it up-to-date. I want to read it when I come to visit, okay?"

"I'll make sure that it's done. We miss you." All of a sudden, I'm feeling a little teary-eyed. "Harm wants to speak to you," I add quickly. I'm hoping that, by stopping our conversation, it will keep me from starting to cry in front of my guests.

"I want to talk to him, too. I just wanted to talk to you first."

"Thank you again for the gift. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now, open the rest of your presents and make sure that someone calls me when my baby brother arrives."

"I will," I say with a sniffle. It's hard to believe that she's been gone for only a month.

After we exchange goodbyes, I raise my hand straight up that's holding the phone. I know that Harm is standing there, waiting to speak with her.

I think that I have only one very large gift left to open. It's so big that I'll have to go to it to open it, but I'm in for a surprise when Trish turns to Frank.

"You want to bring in our gift?" Trish asks. To give Harm time to talk to Mattie and to give Frank time to go into another room to get whatever it is, Trish keeps talking. "We want our newest grandson to come to see us in style and safety, whether you're walking over or driving," she says as Frank reappears, pushing the expensive travel system that Harm and I saw at the baby store.

'Travel system' was the store's way of labeling the stroller and car seat/carrier combination set.

After gasps around the room and expressing my thanks to Trish and Frank, Harriet offers her gifts.

The first one is a bath set for baby: a hooded towel and a washcloth. As I open the second gift, Harriet's features take on an odd expression, like she's worried that I won't like it. I can't imagine what it could be that would make her feel that way.

I lift the lid on the box and see a little sailor suit like the one that Carolyn and I gave her for little AJ. "Oh, Harriet," I say before I get choked up.

"Little AJ wore it. Well, all my boys have worn it, so I thought that, since you gave it to me…I should give it back to you so that your son could wear it, too."

"That's so sweet, Harriet."

"I wasn't sure…because you're a Marine."

"Yeah, but his daddy's a sailor," I say with a big smile.

I'm down to the last gift. It's time for me to stand up. I move to the big cardboard box, which isn't adorned with any fancy paper, ribbons or bows, and look at the shipping label. "FRAGILE" is in bold print, and the sender's address is in Pennsylvania. It's from Harm's grandmother.

Harm helps me by pulling open the top flaps of the box. I pull the other two flaps up and I can't believe what I see inside.

"It's a rocking chair," I announce to those who don't have my view of the contents.

"It's _her_ rocking chair – the one from in front of the fireplace in the den. She wanted you to have it for his nursery so that you could rock her great grandson in the same rocker in which she rocked Harm's father and Harm...when we were able to visit," Trish explains.

Okay, that did it. The pregnant woman is going to cry.

First, a call from our oldest daughter, then Harriet's sentimental gift, and now this – I'm surprised that I haven't cried a river before now.

Harm's arms come around me, and I lean my head against his chest under his chin, nestled between Sami's dangling legs.

Sensing that I need a moment to compose myself, I hear Trish say, "Ladies, if you'll follow me, it's time for some refreshments." Then I hear Frank tell Harm that he'll take Sami in for some cake and punch.

Harm's arms leave me for a moment and then return. This time, without Sami on his shoulders, he's able to hold me a little closer while I pull myself together before rejoining the others.


	38. Chapter 38

**PART FOUR **

**MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**JLS**

**0915**

**MAC'S POV**

As per my current usual Monday morning routine, I came to work, went to the ladies room, held the Monday morning staff meeting and then made one more stop at the ladies room.

I'm headed to my office after my last stop and I'm so happy that I'm almost humming.

I had a wonderful weekend that included rest, time with my family, a baby shower, planned and attended by my friend, Harriet Roberts, and to top off the weekend, today is my second wedding anniversary. It's truly a good day to be me.

After the guests left my baby shower yesterday, Harriet was a guest at the Burnett home for Sunday dinner, where part of the discussion was about how long Harriet was going to be able to stay. She said that her mother was 'helping' Bud with their children, so she couldn't be gone for too long for fear that her mother would drive her husband insane.

However, I'm glad that she doesn't leave until Wednesday afternoon because I'm looking forward to my anniversary dinner tonight with my husband, but I want to spend an evening with her, too. I woke up this morning with my mouth watering for a big juicy steak with a baked potato, and my taste buds have been in overdrive ever since, so I don't want to miss dinner tonight.

I reach PO Coates' desk, and she stands. "Colonel, here are your messages ... and, Ma'am, I'm not sure that it's anything important, but a young man…a boy, really, called you early this morning. I tried to take a message, but he said that he'd try to call back later. Since you're leaving early today because of your anniversary, Ma'am, if he should call after you leave the office today, what should I tell him?"

"Try again to take a message…or find out if someone else in the office can help him with his problem," I say as I take a couple of steps towards my office door, but then I remember Harm telling me about a young man who might need my legal advice. It's been a week, but maybe he needed to think it over before he called. I turn around to face Jennifer again. "On second thought, if he calls again and I'm not here, give him my cellphone number and ask him to call me."

"Yes, Ma'am."

**A TABLE IN A DIMLY LIT RESTAURANT**

**SAN DIEGO, CA**

**1800**

"How did you find this place? It isn't exactly your kind of place," I say as I look over the menu.

"I asked around the office, and the name of this place came up several times as being a great place for either steak or seafood. I thought it fit the bill perfectly. You could have your dead cow, and I could get seafood," Harm says in a teasing tone.

"How did you know that I'd want a steak?" I ask.

"Because I know you," he says, the flame of the candle reflecting in his eyes.

I smile. "Is it that or the fact that you keep me on a reduced red meat diet so you know that, when I get the chance, I'm going to have steak?" I tease back.

"Could be that, too," he answers with a slight smile and a chuckle.

**A FEW MINUTES LATER **

We're waiting on our dinner to arrive at our table when I remember the phone call that I'd missed earlier and want to ask Harm about.

"Harm, the boy who you said might need my legal advice last week, have you heard from him?"

"No, have you?"

"I don't know. Jennifer said that a young man called this morning, but he wouldn't leave a message. He said that he'd call back, but he hasn't yet. Have you made any progress on the burglary case?"

"I'm not really that involved with the investigation on a daily basis. However, I can tell you that, after the last interview that Michaels and I had with the latest victim, Michaels got the idea that it might be one or both of his parents who are committing the burglaries, which led him to interview previous victims. Of those who could remember when the last time was that they'd seen the item that had been stolen, they'd been at a party either thrown by or attended by his parents, and armed with that information Michaels came to me about getting a warrant for his parents' financial records."

"So maybe he knows that his parents are involved in the thefts," I suggest.

"Maybe, but it's our anniversary. Let's not talk shop," Harm says, reaching across the table to take my hand in his.

"Should we talk about how much your son is looking forward to the steak that I ordered?" I tease.

He smiles the warm, loving smile with which I've become familiar only in the last couple of years, the smile that I see on his face only when he's looking at me or when he's with our children. My heart flutters at the thought that _this_ smile is reserved for only his family.

"Mac, are you okay?" he asks, and I realize that I've been lost in thought.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

"About?" he asks.

"About the last two years with you," I say with a smile.

"It has been a crazy ride, hasn't it? I mean, if someone had told me three years ago that I'd be proposing to you in six months and that we'd be married with four children and a fifth one on the way…I never would've believed them," he says with a shake of his head.

"Any regrets?" I ask tentatively.

"No." After a brief pause, he continues, "Sometimes I start to regret not asking you sooner, but then I think about the timing. If we'd gotten together sooner, it would have changed our path, and though we may have had a couple of kids the old-fashioned way by now, we wouldn't have Tyler and the girls, and I've never had second thoughts about them being our children, so, in the end, I can't regret anything. Things happened the way they were supposed to happen."

His softer side never ceases to amaze me.

"I feel the same way," I say as the waiter appears with our dinner.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2200**

I left the office at 1120 and came to the house to pick up Harriet. We went to lunch, and then we shopped until after two.

When we got back to the house, Harriet and I didn't have much of a chance to talk. Sami was up from her nap when we got in and wanted to stay with us while Sofia went to get Ty and Abigail from school. Keeping Sami entertained was a full-time assignment while Sofia was gone, or, I should say, watching her entertain us. I wish that I had just half of her energy about now.

The time with Sami made Harriet realize how much she missed her children. So, after Sofia got home with Ty and Abigail, we did things with the kids until it was time for me to get ready for my date with Harm and for the children to get ready to go to their grandparents' house for the evening.

I felt badly about leaving Harriet alone at the house when she'd come out here to see me. We did the polite thing and asked her to come with us, but we were glad when she declined.

"Your wedding anniversary dinner isn't a time when you want a friend along, no matter how long it's been since you've seen me," she'd said.

However, we did come straight home after dinner, in part to spend time with Harriet before she leaves on Wednesday and partially because I was tired.

Once at home, I sat on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table.

The three of us talked for awhile, until the subject became nursing bras and stretch marks, which was Harm's cue to leave the room.

Harm returned thirty minutes ago to let me know that he was headed to bed, but Harriet had moments before said something about what we'd bought during our shopping trip today for 'little Harm the third,' so, before I went to bed, I wanted to clue her in that Harm didn't want the baby to be named after him.

I enter the bedroom.

In the complete quiet of our room, I can hear the sound of Harm's rhythmic breathing – he's asleep.

After changing in the bathroom, I walk slowly to the bed and slip under the covers, which causes Harm to stir.

"I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be sleeping alone on our anniversary," he says in a voice husky from sleep.

"Harriet called the baby 'little Harm the third,' which led me to tell her that you don't like the idea of naming the baby after you."

"Which led to a discussion of baby names?"

"Yes."

"Did you come up with one you like?"

"A couple of possibilities, but we can discuss them in the morning. Since you're awake now, and it is our anniversary ... " I say suggestively.

"Are you feeling up to that?" he asks like I've shocked him by suggesting such a thing as making love.

"I feel up to giving it a try ... unless you don't want me ... " I hate that I sometimes sound like a stereotypical pregnant woman, but let's face it. No matter how attractive you thought you were before, at almost eight months pregnant, you aren't feeling sexy, and therefore question how your mate might see you.

"Not only do I want you, but I want _only_ you," he says reassuringly, moments before his lips touch mine.

**TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**JLS**

**1530**

When Jennifer buzzed my office a minute ago, she'd said that she was pretty sure that it was the same boy on the line who'd called yesterday, but he didn't want to give her his name.

If it is the boy who Harm told me about, he's in some kind of trouble or knows someone who is, so I don't need to sound like a Marine when I talk with him.

"This is Colonel MacKenzie," I say in a gentle tone of voice.

"A friend gave me your name and number. I called because I know that Justin didn't steal the stuff that they're saying he did, but I can't tell anyone because of how I know. I don't want to go to jail."

Harm said that the boy to whom he'd given my name and telephone number was Justin ... Justin something.

"I might be able to help. I could come to your house -"

"No, no…you can't come to my house!"

"Okay, okay, relax. Let's start with something simple. What's your name?"

"I don't want to tell you my name. You'll be able to find me."

"I won't be able to find you if you tell me just your first name."

"John."

"John, how do you know that Justin didn't steal the items?"

"Because…I took the stuff, but I didn't plan to get anyone in trouble. We need the money to get away."

"Why do you need to get away?"

"To get away from my dad."

"Why?"

"Because he hits us."

I feel a sudden tension in my gut. At times like these, I can't stop the painful memories of my childhood from seeping into my mind from where I keep them locked away.

"John, you said us…he hits you and who else?"

"My mother…he has for as long as I can remember, but six months ago, he was beating her, and, when she cried out in pain, I knew that it was bad. I tried to stop him. He turned to me and said that, if I felt like I was man enough to take him, he'd show me that I was wrong, and he hit me a couple of times before my mother got between us and told me to go to my room, that she could handle him."

"John, do you have the things that you took or have you already sold them?"

"I still have all of it. The stuff is in two cardboard boxes, one in my closet and another one under my bed that has the jewelry in it."

"John, I want you to tell me your last name or where you live."

"Why?"

"Because I can help you, but I can't come to get you and your mother if I don't who you are or where you are…tell me something that I can use to find you."

"I'll have to think about it."

Click

Just like that, he's gone.

I waste no time by putting down the receiver. I just hit the button on the cradle to get a dial tone before dialing Harm's office.

Harm's yeoman picks up, and I use my command Marine voice when I say, "This is Colonel MacKenzie with JLS. I need to speak with Captain Rabb."

After a quick "Yes, Ma'am, one moment please," I hear silence until Harm picks up the phone.

"What can I do for you, Colonel MacKenzie?"

"I need your help to solve a mystery."

"What kind of help do you need?"

"I just got a call from a young man who said that a friend gave him my name and number. I want you to tell me the name and address of the boy to whom you gave my name and number so that I can go speak with him."

"He wouldn't give you his name and address when you spoke with him?" he asks.

"No, he wouldn't. He's scared and in trouble. He told me his story, and I believe him. So, if I can find him, I can help him."

"I remember his name. It was Justin…Justin Fulton, but you'll have to give me some time to find the file to get his address."

The boy who I spoke with today said that Justin didn't commit the crimes. So, who's John? Maybe Justin used the name John when he spoke to me. If there is a second boy, then Justin is the friend who gave John my name and number. Since I have no way of knowing if Justin and John are two people or the same person, Justin's name and address is where I need to start.

As I'm thinking about the situation that the boy, whoever he is, is in, it occurs to me that he was probably calling after school. It may not be a good idea to head over there now. By the time I could get there, his father might be home. I'll go there tomorrow to see him just after he gets home from school.

I condense my thoughts to Harm by asking him, "I won't be going there tonight, so why don't you just bring the address home with you?"

"Sure thing, see you at home. Bye."

"Bye."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME  
2200**

Harm enters the bedroom, carrying what looks like a file folder.

"I almost forgot. I brought home a copy of the file. It'll have all the information that you need."

"The entire file?"

"Well, what I have of it anyway. You won't be prosecuting the case, and if you defend the boy, you'll be entitled to see the file on disclosure, so, see it now…see it later…it makes no difference to me."

"Thank you," I say as I place the folder on my night table. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. Tonight, I want to get some sleep. I'm tired."

"You worked all day and then went out to dinner with Harriet, followed by more shopping. Of course, you're tired. I should've known that you'd overdo it with her here," he says in a tone that's a cross between scolding and worry.

"Harm, the baby and I are fine. I'm just tired. Harriet leaves tomorrow, so relax and come to bed so your son will settle down and we can all get some sleep."

A few minutes later, he's lying in bed with me, and my eyelids are already closed.

"I love you," I whisper.

"I love you, too," he whispers back before placing a kiss at my temple.


	39. Chapter 39

**PART FIVE**

**WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0635**

**HARM'S POV**

I come in from my swim to find that Harriet is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

"Harriet, you should be enjoying your break away from cooking, not fixing our breakfast," I say, gently scolding her.

"I'm leaving this afternoon. Tomorrow morning, I'll be cooking breakfast at home, so consider this as allowing me to ease myself back into the habit. I haven't made anything fancy. I've put some biscuits in the oven and sliced some fruit. I've really enjoyed my visit. I've had a wonderful time meeting your family…your children."

She has her giddy 'Harriet smile' on her face.

"Didn't think that you'd ever see the day when Harm would have a wife and children, did you?" Mac says, snickering as she enters the kitchen.

"I have to say that I didn't think that I was ever going to see it either, and I'd given up that it was going to be with me," she continues.

'She's certainly having a good time at my expense this morning,' I think as I cross my arms in a defensive posture.

"Everyone is up and will be in for breakfast in a few minutes," she adds.

"You certainly seem to be in a good mood this morning," I say as I walk over and give her a peck on the lips.

"I am. I've had a few days to visit with a dear friend, I _did_ finally snag you, and we have a house full of wonderful children. If all that isn't a good enough reason, last night was the first night in the last week or so that I haven't had any 'growing pains,' so I slept soundly through the night…well, except for one bathroom trip, but I got back into bed and went right back to sleep."

"Growing pains?" Harriet asks.

"You explain it to her. I'm headed to the shower," I say as I leave the kitchen to let the ladies talk about pregnancy and babies again.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**0947**

**MAC'S POV**

I'd taken care of the most pressing matters and had kept my 0900 appointment before I had a chance to sit down with the file that Harm gave me last night.

I start to read the entire file to get a feel for the case, but the facts are boring and, with the return of the 'growing pains,' as they're called around our house, my attention span has disappeared. So, I find myself starting to flip through the file pages, quickly scanning each one, looking for something that might give me a clue as to who this "John" is who called me yesterday.

It takes me five minutes before I see something that catches my attention.

John Montgomery, 15, was interviewed and provided Justin with an alibi that Justin was at his home, playing video games and, because of the late hour, he'd told Justin to use the window when he left to go home. I think this solves the mystery. Justin isn't using 'John' to hide his true identity. 'John' is his friend, John Montgomery, and from their addresses, also his neighbor.

If that's the case, I know who's been committing the burglaries and I know why, but I can't tell anyone without breaking attorney/client privilege.

I also have to consider the safety of my client.

My first step is to make sure that the John who I spoke with yesterday is John Montgomery.

It doesn't matter which boy is 'John.' They'll both be at school right now.

I'll go to pick up Harriet, and we'll go to lunch before I take her to the airport as planned, but when I leave the airport, I'm headed to the Montgomery home to find John.

**PARKED ON THE STREET**

**MILITARY HOUSING**

**1445**

Having a friend like Peggy is wonderful. She's close by and understood my struggles to conceive, but having Harriet to talk to these last few days has been a blessing.

Not only does she understand the military aspects of our life, but I can talk to her about the pregnancy, breast-feeding – anything baby or child related.

I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her until I saw her again.

Our long-term friendship and the new common link of motherhood between us to strengthen it had Harriet and me in tears when we said our goodbyes, so I was thankful to have a task to sink my teeth into when I left the airport.

The next time someone visits, I want to pick them up. Harm can take them back to the airport.

I was focused on my task as I merged into traffic upon leaving the airport and headed for the Montgomery home.

A momentary flash of my childhood made me realize how much control my father had over my mother. He'd never let her work outside the home. I don't think that she would've been able to keep a job long if she'd had one. She would've gotten tired of explaining her bruises to coworkers. I'll bet that, if Mrs. Montgomery has ever worked outside the home, she isn't working anymore, so, I'll bet that she's at home.

I sit in the car for a moment, riding out another 'growing pain.'

As I wait for the discomfort to pass, I decide to talk to Mrs. Montgomery now. If it was her son who called me yesterday, she's in need of help also. I want her to know that I'll help her in any way that I can.

Confident that the contraction has ended, I get out of the minivan and make my way to the Montgomery's front door.

When I reach the door, I knock. I knock a second and a third time. I'm about to leave when I see the curtain move at the window. I knock a fourth and a fifth time before my persistence pays off and a woman opens the door, but only a fraction of an inch.

"Mrs. Montgomery?" I ask.

"Yes," she says softly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well. So could you come back at another time?"

"No, I really can't. I'm Colonel MacKenzie. I'm a JAG officer. I'm here to talk to you about your son, John."

"Why do you want to talk about John?"

"I think he called me yesterday afternoon."

"You think -?"

"He gave me only a first name, but from our discussion, I believe that I was speaking to your son. May I please come in to speak with you?"

"I don't know."

"I'm here to help…your son and you."

"I don't think that you can help us."

"Why don't you tell me the whole story? I'm sure that there are parts that your son doesn't know, and then we'll see how much help I can give the two of you."

I hear her let out a heavy sigh just before she opens the door wide enough to let me enter.

I step inside and close the door behind me.

The room is dark. She's got the curtains drawn and the lights are off.

I hear the click of her turning on a lamp a moment before the room becomes illuminated with a soft white, low wattage light. At least I can see where I'm walking now.

When I reach the couch, we sit down, and I'm able to see why she doesn't feel well.

Even in the soft lighting, the bruises on her arms are evident, and a discolored area around her eye indicates a healing black eye.

"When does your husband usually get home?"

"Between three-thirty and four o'clock…I'm sorry, I mean 1530 and 1600."

I take it from the fear on her face that not using military time is one of the things that sets off her husband.

"Tell me if he's the one who gave you those bruises on your arm."

Tears roll down her face, but she isn't making a sound. "Yes ... and no, this isn't the first time."

"Have you seen a doctor?" I ask.

"I'll be fine. He always manages to leave bruises without doing any really serious damage."

"Have you ever gone to see a doctor after he's beaten you?"

"In the eighteen years that we've been married, five or six times, but never more than twice at a single duty station. That way, the ER never called into question the story that I'd run into a door, tripped on a rug and hit the coffee table or whatever other reason I've used throughout the years for my injuries."

"Are you ready to leave him?" I ask.

She's staring off into space to her right, avoiding making eye contact with me as she begins to answer.

"I've always known that I should, but I never wanted my son to go without the basic needs of food, clothing and shelter." She turns to look me in the eye. "My husband has always taken care of us. He's a good provider. Two years ago on Valentine's Day, he gave me the necklace that's been stolen. He'd been sober for three weeks at that time, and I'd thought that things were going to finally change." She looks away again as she continues, "It lasted another week before some shipmate had a bachelor party, and he took a drink. He came home that night, and I was folding John's clothes. He screamed, "Clothes are to be rolled, not folded." He punctuated his statement with a fist. How sad is it that, as I was putting ice on my eye, my thought was, 'He quit after only one punch. That's an improvement,' but hitting me only once didn't last long either."

I want to get an answer to my question, but I know that she's had this stuff bottled up for a long time. I need to let her to get to the answer in her own time.

"I don't know that he needs an excuse to start beating me anymore ... so don't ask me what sets him off because I have no idea. One day about six months ago, he was beating me when John came into the room and stood up to his father, telling him to stop hitting me. His father quit hitting me, but for the first time, he struck our son. I knew then that I had to get away, but I needed some money for living expenses for at least a few weeks. Since then, I've been skimming money from what he gives me to run the house each week to put away for our escape."

"Did you tell your son about needing money to get away?"

"Yes, I told John to hang on just a little bit longer, that I was saving up money. We didn't have enough yet, but when we did, we'd leave and not look back."

Now I'm sure that John Montgomery is the boy who called me, but my mission has expanded - I want to help both of them.

"Are you ready to leave him?" I ask again.

After last night's beating, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. I'm getting older, and the bruises take longer to heal. Sometimes, he gives me bruises on my bruises." She takes a deep breath and then continues, "I called my sister this morning and told her that I needed some place to stay."

"What did she say?"

"That she'd hoped that I'd come to my senses one of these days. She said that I deserved to be treated better and that she'd have left him long before now. All these years I'd thought that I was hiding it, but she knew. She asked if she needed to come to get me or just have a room ready for me when I arrived. I told her that I'd call her back and let her know when I had a plan in place. I was sitting on the couch having second thoughts about leaving when you knocked on the door. I guess it's the sign that I've been waiting for – it's time to go."

I reach for my cellphone. "How about now?"

She looks panicked. "I can't leave without my son."

"It's 15…three ten, so John should be home from school soon, right?" I ask.

"Yes, he should be home in no more than twenty minutes."

"Are you ready to leave as soon as John gets home?"

I get only an affirmative nod this time, but that's good enough for me. I dial Harm's office on my cellphone.

When Harm picks up my call with "Hello, Colonel," I waste no time in getting to the point of my call.

"Who's the agent on the burglary cases?" I ask.

"Michaels, why?"

"Can you round him up and get over to the Montgomery home before 1530?"

"That's twenty minutes, but thirty minutes is probably doable. What's going on?"

"Several things, but if I can't get it wrapped up before her husband gets home, I may need some backup."

"Is PO Montgomery due home at 1530?"

The fact that Mac might need backup in her current condition is enough to have Harm standing at his desk and reaching for his cover, preparing to leave the moment he hangs up the phone.

"Mrs. Montgomery says between 1530 and 1600."

"I'll get someone to track down Michaels, but I'm on my way."

"Thanks," I say into the phone, but the line is dead. He didn't hear me.

**MONTGOMERY HOUSE**

**1527**

The couch is positioned with its back against the front window, so my back is to the outside, not that I could have seen who was coming up the walk with the curtains drawn, but I feel at a definite disadvantage when the door opens, especially given my current condition.

I breathe easier when a young man steps into the house.

I try to stand quickly, but that doesn't happen. The young man makes it into the room before I can get up.

"Mom, what's going on?"

"It's time for us to leave," she says softly to her son.

I've managed to stand while mother and son have had their exchange. "I'm Colonel MacKenzie. You and I spoke yesterday."

"How did you find me? I don't want to go to jail. I can't leave my mother. He'll kill her!"

"John, I understand that we may not have much time because your father will be home soon. So, I want you to look at me and listen carefully."

He makes eye contact with me, and I continue. "I'm here to help you and your mother. I do have NCIS and their legal advisor on the way, but I don't want you to panic. Have you ever heard the term 'mitigating circumstances'?"

"No."

"The quick explanation is that it means that you're guilty of the crime of which you've been accused, but that, because of your circumstances, the punishment for committing the crime will be much less severe than normal. In your case, you saw taking the items as a way to get away from your abusive father. If you turn yourself in when NCIS gets here and you still have the items that you stole so that they can be returned to their rightful owners, I don't believe that there will be any charges filed. If they do file charges, I'm sure that I'll be able to persuade them to release you into your mother's custody and perhaps put you on probation. It's going to be okay. I'm going to help you."

"John, you took my necklace?" his mother asks disbelievingly.

"Yes…and the other stuff that they were accusing Justin of taking, too. I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't know any other way to help us get away from him."

"I'm going to go call my sister and ask her to come and get us," Mrs. Montgomery says as she stands and disappears into the kitchen.

Without any backup here yet, I decide that I'm in a better position standing if PO Montgomery comes home before Harm and the NCIS agent gets here.

**MONTGOMERY HOME**

**1535**

The front door opens without a knock, so I know that PO Montgomery has arrived home.

I can see the tension in PO Montgomery's face at seeing me standing in his living room, and his voice is strained when he asks, "Colonel, why are you here, Ma'am?"

"I'm here to give your son some legal advice."

"Why would my son need legal advice?"

"I'm afraid that's privileged information between your son, as my client, and myself, as his attorney."

"He's only fifteen. I'm his father. I have a right to know what he's done."

"I didn't say that he'd done anything, did I?"

"No, but then, you haven't really said anything."

"Then I'm doing my job," I say.

I've managed to keep eye contact with him during our verbal exchange. He seems to be respectful of my rank, but I'm not about to relax. However, I am feeling a little less vulnerable at the moment, but that feeling evaporates when Mrs. Montgomery returns from the other room after speaking with her sister.

"My sister said -" She stops when she sees her husband. I don't think that she heard him come in.

"What's going on, honey?" His voice is even more strained when he poses the question to his wife.

"Colonel MacKenzie is here to…" She trails off as he steps closer to her.

"She said that it's to give legal advice to our son. Now, why would she need to do that?" he asks her.

"Lawyer/client confidentiality excludes both of you," I say, trying to defuse some of the anger that he's directing at his wife.

He turns towards me. "Excuse me, Colonel, but you don't have a right to be in my home without cause, so I'd like for you to leave," he says through gritted teeth.

"I let her in," John, Jr. says quickly. "So that makes her an invited guest. Isn't that right, Colonel MacKenzie?"

"That's correct, John," I reply calmly.

"Well, I'm his father. It's my house and I want you to leave," he repeats, his voice becoming louder.

"I want her to stay," his wife says softly, causing him to look back in her direction.

"How dare you contradict me in my own home!" he says, his voice raising several decibels.

"PO Montgomery, I caution you not to lose your temper," I break in, trying to deflect his anger away from his wife.

He turns to me, and his voice returns to the strained version of a few moments ago. "You have no say in how I talk to my wife in my home, _Ma'am_."

"I beg to differ with you, Petty Officer, but …" I don't get out any more before I see him begin to move towards me.

"You may wear the pants in your family, but I wear them in this house. Get out of my house!" he yells.

I see him raising his hand in a threatening manner as if to strike me. I'm not near a table or a shelf, so I have nothing with which to defend myself and I'm too pregnant to run.

Obviously, he's either lost respect for the uniform and my superior rank or he's mentally snapped when he screams, "_You bitch_!"

I'd try to block the hit, but I want to protect the baby. I wrap my arms around my stomach, close my eyes and prepare for impact. Just then, I hear rapid footsteps as someone else enters the house.

A second later, Harm is standing between me and Petty Officer Montgomery.

"I suspect that you hit your wife, but you won't hit mine, Petty Officer," Harm says firmly as he grasps Montgomery's raised fist and shoves him away from me.

I let out the breath that I'd been holding. Harm's here. Everything's going to be fine.

A couple of moments later, Harm's hands are on my arms. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm okay. You cut that a little close," I say as I peer around Harm to watch as Agent Michaels puts handcuffs on Petty Officer Montgomery.

**1625**

Agent Michaels arrested PO John Montgomery, Senior on assault charges.

After John Montgomery, Jr. had handed over the two boxes of stolen items, instead of arresting him, Agent Michaels allowed John, Jr. to go to the hospital with his mother so that she could be checked over to be sure that she was okay, have her injuries photographed and a statement taken for the case against her husband.

After the items that John, Jr. turned over are inventoried and, if the stolen items are all present and can be returned, both Agent Michaels and Harm will support a recommendation for counseling in lieu of other punishment.

**GIRLS BEDROOM **

**RABB HOME**

**1900**

I'm in the girls' room with Sami, helping her pick out her outfit for tomorrow.

Abigail is in here to help because she doesn't want to be far from me. I had another 'growing pain' not long after we arrived home, making Abigail my constant companion this evening.

Sami and I agree on an outfit just moments before another pain hits me.

"Abigail, will you go tell Harm that I need him to run Sami's bath water, please?"

"Are you okay?" Abigail asks with concern.

"A 'growing pain,' Princess, nothing to worry about."

"Okay," she responds.

Harm comes into the room two minutes later.

"I hear that you're having another pain," he states.

"It's over now, but could you help with bath time? I think that I'd like to lie down for a little while."

"Sure," he replies.

"Thanks."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2230**

I can't get comfortable tonight. I've been tossing and turning, and now I have to pee, so I get out of bed and head to the bathroom.

I'm on my way back to bed when a pain causes me to place my hand against the wall to ride it out.

It doesn't last long, so I brush it off and get back into bed, hoping that I can get some sleep.

If it wasn't for the fact that my due date is still five weeks away, I'd think that I was in labor.

No, I can't be. It's too soon.

They're just growing pains, I think as I finally drift off to sleep.


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – LABOR OF LOVE **

**PART ONE **

**THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2007**

**EXAM ROOM**

**DR. WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**0845**

**HARM'S POV**

Dr. Wallace enters the room after a quick rap on the door. "Hello, Sarah," she says with a smile. "Hello, Harm."

We each greet her with, "Good morning, Doctor" before she looks at the chart and speaks again.

"I see that your blood pressure is still stable. You gained a half pound this week. That's good. I was starting to wonder if I should worry. You hadn't put on any weight in a couple of weeks. You look tired, though. How are you sleeping?"

"Some nights are easier than others. Last night was a tough one. I had some of those Braxton-Hicks contractions that made it hard for me to get to sleep," Mac replies.

"I wish that I could say that it's going to get better, but I'm afraid that, with only about four and a half weeks left until your due date, you'll probably find that it gets worse instead."

"Gee, Doctor, do you have any good news for me?" Mac asks jokingly.

"Yes, the good news is that, in about a month, maybe six weeks, first babies often come late, your labor of love will be rewarded with a little bundle of joy. To give you a little reminder of the work that you're doing, why don't we listen to his heartbeat first today?"

Soon the whooshing sound of our baby's heartbeat is filling the room. There are no words for the way that sound makes me feel.

"Sounds like you're doing a good job, Sarah. His heartbeat is strong and steady."

Having come this far in the pregnancy, though we've never spoken about it, I don't know if either one of us would survive it if something went wrong at this point. So, Dr. Wallace's comment has Mac and me looking at each other with matching grins.

After the usual measurement of Mac's growing belly, Dr. Wallace asks if we have any questions the way she always does before wrapping up our appointment.

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**1130**

Michaels enters my office with a smirk. "I was going to talk to you this morning at the meeting, but you sent Lafferty. He said that you were coming in late ... personal business. Your wife okay after yesterday's excitement?"

"She's fine. We had a routine appointment this morning. What did you want to talk to me about?" I ask curiously.

"I wanted to see if you'd be free about 1500 today," he says cryptically.

"I don't have anything scheduled, why?" I ask.

"I want to go have another talk with Justin Fulton. The two of you seem to have more of a rapport, so I thought that, if you could be around, he'd feel more comfortable talking to me."

"Do you suspect that he's an accomplice in the burglaries?" I ask, uncertain why he'd want to question Justin again.

"No, I have a hunch that he witnessed Petty Officer Montgomery assaulting Mrs. Montgomery," Michaels explains.

"A hunch based on ... " I say, questioning his evidence.

"After we wrapped up at the Montgomery place last night, I questioned Mrs. Montgomery at the hospital. One of the questions that I asked was if she could remember how many times she'd been beaten. She said that, in the eighteen years that they'd been married ... too many times to count, but if I could get her a calendar, she'd be able to give me some specific dates from the last couple of months based on events that had happened. For instance, she said that, when they'd returned home from the Fulton's Labor Day party, her husband had accused her of flirting with some guy at the party, and he'd hit her repeatedly that night. Through some event connection, like the party or the fact that it was grocery day, since he often beat her because he felt that she'd spent too much money, she pinpointed at least a dozen dates in the last two months. When I was putting my notes together this morning, I realized that one of the dates that she'd given me was the same night that young Mister Fulton had been caught leaving the Montgomery home through the window."

"And you think that he may have been too scared to mention what he'd seen when we questioned him, and that's what he was hiding," I respond, understanding where he's going with this.

"Exactly ... so do you want to tag along when I go to see him after school today?" he asks.

"I'll meet you there," I reply.

"Then I'll see you at the Fulton home at 1515," Michaels says as he departs my office.

**RABB SUV**

**EN ROUTE, NEAR THE FULTON HOME**

I called Mac after Michaels left my office to let her know that I might be a little late picking her up because I'd be with Michaels trying to wrap up the Montgomery case. She called back a few minutes later to tell me that Jennifer had volunteered to take her home. She also told me that she was going to order pizza and invite Jennifer to stay for dinner, so to take my time and not rush home, thinking that she was taking over my kitchen again.

I hate to admit it, but knowing that someone like Jennifer will be with Mac and the kids until I get home does make me feel better. I say like Jennifer because, if she could handle the pressure of being there with Bud when that land mine exploded, taking his leg, I know that she'd keep her cool, get Mac to the hospital and call me if anything went wrong. Mac's in good hands with Jennifer. Perhaps that's one reason why I don't worry much when Mac's at work. Jennifer is nearby and would take care of things until I arrived.

I use the cul-de-sac to make a loop and pull up behind Michaels' car in front of the Fulton home at 1510.

**CURB OUTSIDE THE FULTON HOME**

As I open the door to the SUV to get out, I see Michaels waving what appears to be a piece of paper out his window.

I get out of the SUV and approach Michaels, who's also exited his vehicle.

We meet in the space between our two cars, and he hands me two pieces of paper, saying, "One copy is for you, but I thought that you might want to pass a copy on to your wife if she's still acting on John, Jr.'s behalf. They finished going through the boxes today. Everything that was reported stolen was there. There were even two pieces that haven't been reported as having been stolen. I guess the owner or owners haven't missed them yet or think that they just misplaced them and haven't reported them as missing."

"So, it looks like tomorrow after the meeting, we'll be able to close the burglary cases," I state.

"Looks that way. You ready to see if we can tie up the loose ends on the Fulton boy, too?" Michaels asks, looking towards the front door of the house.

"Let's do it," I say before we head to the Fulton's front door.

When Mrs. Fulton opens the door, you can tell that she isn't thrilled to see us again, but I think that her curiosity is overriding her annoyance.

"I saw you take PO Montgomery away in handcuffs. Are you here about that?" Mrs. Fulton asks.

"We've got a few questions for your son," Michaels replies.

"Why? He told you that he didn't steal that stuff, and if he said that he didn't do it, I believe him, no matter what anyone else says," Mrs. Fulton says firmly.

"Mrs. Fulton, we got a confession from the person who was responsible for the burglaries," Michaels acknowledges.

"PO Montgomery?" Mrs. Fulton asks curiously.

"No, Ma'am," Michaels replies.

"If someone's confessed, why do you want to talk to Justin?" Mrs. Fulton asks.

"When we questioned him before, we believed that he was hiding something. We now believe that, instead of hiding his own guilt, he was withholding information about something else. We think that he's a witness to another crime," I answer.

"I guess you can come in then. Justin will be home in a few minutes."

**LIVING ROOM **

**FULTON HOME**

**1529**

This time, to show that we're sincere in our reason for being here, we've sat in the living room and accepted her hospitality by taking her up on her offer of iced tea to drink.

Mrs. Fulton brings in our drinks.

"Thank you. You have a lovely home, Mrs. Fulton," Michaels says.

"Thank you," she replies with a shy smile.

Her mood changes the instant that Michaels adds, "With such exquisite taste, I'm surprised that you had so many things from yard sales in your garage. Do you resell the items to buy these things?"

A flash of anger passes across her face and then she relaxes. "I guess that, at one point, I was a suspect, so I'm going to tell you something, but I don't want it to leave this room."

Michaels and I look at each other before Michaels looks back at her. "Okay, what it is that you have to tell us?" he asks.

"All the items that you see in this room that you think are expensive are recycled items. Some of the items…take for instance that decorative pillow that you're leaning against, Agent Michaels, and the matching one at the other end of the couch, are made from the fabric of a yard sale satin dress that I embellished with a few beads from a necklace that I bought in a thrift store. I make expensive-looking things out of other peoples' castoffs, and I was so worried about you finding out my secret that I was jumpy when your people found my stash in the garage."

"Your secret is safe with us. It isn't a crime to be creative," Michaels responds.

Mrs. Fulton lets out a sigh of relief. "I think I'll go get us some cookies. I baked them myself this morning."

Mrs. Fulton has just returned with the cookies when Justin enters through the front door. She greets him. "Justin, these nice men told me that they've gotten a confession from someone, but they have some questions for you. They think that you might have been a witness to something. I told them that I thought that you would've told either me or your father, but -"

"I promised not to tell anyone. He said that it would make it worse for them. I heard about the commotion at the Montgomery's yesterday. Mindy said that she saw them taking John's father away in handcuffs. Are John and his mother okay?" Justin asks.

"Yes, they're okay. I told you that we thought that you weren't telling us the truth or at least the whole truth. Will you tell us what you were hiding now?" I ask.

Justin drops his backpack on the floor before plopping down on the couch.

"That night, I was playing video games with John in his room, but I heard shouting in the hall. I opened John's bedroom door just a little to have a look. I saw John's father hit his mother, sending her to the floor. He was yelling at her, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I turned to John and asked him what we should do. I saw Mrs. Montgomery get up and run to the bedroom at the end of the hall, and he followed her, still yelling at her. I was frozen. John came over, closed the door and told me to forget everything I saw. He was so calm. He said that it happened a lot and that she'd be okay. He also told me that they had a plan to get away, but if I told anyone, it might mess things up. He made me promise not to tell a soul ... at least while they were still there. I asked him if his father ever hit him, and he said, only once, when he'd tried to stop him from hitting his mother, but that his mother had stopped his father from beating him up."

"Justin, you should've told us," Mrs. Fulton says, sounding shocked.

"Did John ever give you any details about the plan for him and his mother to get away from his father?" Michaels asks.

Justin shakes his head, indicating a negative response before verbalizing an answer.

"No, he didn't, and I wasn't a very good friend. I didn't ask. I was just so shocked to see his mother getting hit. Even when my parents were arguing really bad before they got divorced, they never hit each other or me ... ever. I should've done something, but I didn't know what to do."

"You can help John and his mom now by testifying at PO Montgomery's trial, if it comes to that. PO Montgomery would be in court. Do you think that you could say what you just told us in court in front of him?" I ask.

"To keep John and his mother safe, sure!" Justin answers emphatically.

"We should talk to your father about this, Justin," Mrs. Fulton says, expressing concern.

"Mrs. Fulton, it may not come to a trial. It may be that PO Montgomery will plead guilty and it won't be necessary for Justin to testify. I just wanted to know if he thought that he could handle it. If it becomes likely that it'll happen, I'll let you know so that you and your husband can discuss it with Justin," I say, trying to ease her mind.

"If you or your husband have any questions, give me a call," Michaels says as he offers Mrs. Fulton his business card. "I think that we have all the loose ends wrapped up for our report. Do you have anything else, Captain?"

"No, I think we're done here."

After thanking Mrs. Fulton and Justin for their help, Michaels and I leave the Fulton home.

**RABB HOME**

**1730 **

I entered our home and heard laughter coming from the dining room.

I went to change clothes and, as I approach the dining room, I hear another wave of laughter.

"It sounds like everyone is having a good time," I say as I enter the room.

"Dad, you're home," Ty says in greeting.

"Daddy, I missed you," Sami says as she waves.

"Harm, we're having pizza for dinner," Abigail offers from her seat at the table.

I move around the table, giving each one of the kids a kiss on top of the head or a pat on the back to avoid getting pizza sauce on me before making it around to Mac.

"One of the boxes on the table is half vegetarian," she says as I place a kiss on her cheek.

"It's this one, Dad," Ty says, pointing to the box in front of him. "I put it down here because Sami was going to eat it instead of saving it for you."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don't think that I should eat the entire half by myself. You want to share it with me?" I ask.

"Sure," he replies.

"How about you, Sami? You want a little piece of my kind of pizza?"

"Pwease?" she says with a grin.

I look up to see that, not only is my wife smiling at me, but Jennifer Coates is grinning at me, too. I know what those two will be talking about at the office tomorrow - me.

"I should tell you about the interview that Michaels and I did late this afternoon," I begin as I pull a couple of slices of pizza from the box, one for me and one to cut for Ty and Sami to share. "Turns out that he's a witness in the case against PO Montgomery."

"Therefore, giving credence to my stand on mitigating circumstances," Mac states.

"After I run my recommendation past Landon in the morning, I'll give you a call when I know if he'll agree."

"Well, then I won't call my client until I get the official word from you, but I'm sure that, with your powers of persuasion, you'll win over Landon and get him to go along with your recommendation for counseling."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

I come into our bedroom and see that Mac is already in bed. She isn't reading, but she's leaning back against her pillow like she's waiting for me. I don't get a chance to weigh the pros and cons of asking if there's something on her mind because, as I pull off my shirt, she asks me a question.

"Do you miss flying for the Navy?"

"Not really," I reply, slightly surprised by her question.

"Are you being completely truthful?" she probes.

"If you're asking me if I _never _think about it, the answer is of course I think about it once in awhile. I sometimes daydream about being in the air during Landon's meetings, but it isn't so much that I miss flying as that the meetings are often so boring. However, if you're wondering if I ever lie in bed thinking about flying when I'm with you ... the answer is no. I have a very full and satisfying life without trying to find time to fly. Now, it's your turn in the hot seat. Why did you ask?"

I sit down next to her on her side of the bed and face her to hear her answer.

"Because Jennifer pointed out that it's time for me to start thinking about my retirement ceremony. I've been preoccupied with counting down the days until the baby arrives, so the end of my career has just sneaked up on me. I'll be out of the Corps by the end of the year - that's only three months away."

"So you're wondering how much you're going to miss it. Are you having second thoughts about leaving the Corps?"

"No, I really want to be home with the baby. He's going to be my only chance to watch a child grow and change from the very beginning. I don't want to miss any of his firsts."

"I think that, with a newborn and three other children to keep track of, you'll be too busy to miss the Corps. On those occasions when you miss ordering subordinates around, I'll let you bark a few orders at me, and that should 'scratch your itch,' so to speak."

"Order you around, huh? I think I like that idea. Let me try that out." She stops for a moment, thinking of what she can get me to do.

"Captain Rabb ... " She's using her command voice. " ... I want you to get those pants off and get into bed so we can get some sleep."

"Aye, aye, Colonel. Anything else, Ma'am?"

"No, that'll be all."

I give her a salute before I stand.

As I shed my pants, she says, "If I wasn't so pregnant, there would be more to your orders than taking off your pants and getting into bed."

I slip into bed, chuckling. "I'll obey any lawful order, Ma'am."

"Kiss me," she says with a grin, her eyes sparkling.

"Yes, Ma'am," I say before my lips touch hers in a gentle and loving kiss good night.


	41. Chapter 41

**PART TWO **

**SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1157 **

**HARM'S POV**

It's been another busy Saturday morning for me and the kids. Today makes the fifth Saturday that Abigail has wanted to come with us, so I've had all three children all morning.

After the first two weeks, I took Mac's advice and chose an activity rather than taking them for French fries and milkshakes. The third Saturday, we went to the park. I was nervous that, because they didn't get a fast food lunch the week before, Abigail wouldn't want to go last week, but she did, and we went to the park again before we went to the grocery store.

Today, our trip included the dry cleaners, the toy store - so they could look around, and I could get an idea of what they'd like for Christmas - and then the grocery store. I'm really looking forward to next Saturday. We aren't going to the grocery store at all. Instead, we're going on a hunt for the perfect pumpkin for Halloween.

After five weeks, today I finally got the timing right. I have us home in time for the kids to have lunch and for Sami to have her entire nap in her bed instead of having to carry my sleeping little girl from the car to her room.

With the groceries almost put away, I tell the children, "I'm going to see if Momma's awake. If she is, I'm going to see if she wants any lunch. While I'm gone, finish putting away those cans and think about what you might want for lunch."

Mac has stayed at home these past five Saturdays. With only a couple of weeks left until she's due, I think that it's a good thing that she's been spending Saturday mornings resting.

I'm a little concerned today because Mac said that she was so tired that she didn't want to join us for breakfast this morning. She said that she wasn't hungry, but agreed to drink a glass of milk. I'm sure that she decided to do that only because I looked worried, and she was trying to ease my mind.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

I open the door quietly in case she's sleeping. When I get the door open, I can see that she isn't sleeping. She's leaning back on our pillows, reading a book.

I step into the bedroom. "I hope you got some rest, but I'm glad to see that you're awake at the moment. It's lunchtime. Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe just some toast and a glass of juice. I'm not very hungry."

"Did you get any rest?"

"Not really, it seems that I have either a twinge here, a pain there or your son decides to play handball using my bladder and I have to get up ... oh, and Peggy called. She wants to stop by tomorrow. Dan Junior is three weeks old, and she wants to show him off. I told her that 1300 would be okay to drop by, that she'd be catching us at home while Sami took a nap after Sunday school and before we leave for your parents for dinner."

"I wish that I could do something to make you feel better or at least something that would let you get a good night's sleep."

"You'll be able to help soon. I've been reading about breast-feeding. One of the reasons this book says that women say they choose not to breast-feed is because they feel it cuts the father out of bonding time with the baby. However, the book says that there are many research studies proving that breast-feeding is better for babies. They suggest that the mother express her milk and let the father use that milk to feed the baby at least once a day. It also suggests that, in the first few weeks, it may be best to think about the timing of the father's turn. By having his time be the first feeding of the day or the last feeding at night, it allows the mother to get more than a couple of hours of sleep at a time. This is especially useful if the baby has siblings who may cause her not to be able to take naps when the baby does."

"That makes sense. When you started talking about this, I thought that you were going to give me the other end and put me on diaper duty," I say with a chuckle.

My statement has her giving me a tired smile.

She starts to rub her hand over her stomach. "It's getting pretty close. You were there on Thursday when Dr. Wallace said that the baby had turned so his head is down and that he's dropped. She isn't sure that I'm going to make it until the thirtieth. In fact, I have just one more week of work before she's putting me on medical leave. You know, I was originally upset that they denied my first date of retirement, but now I'm kind of glad. I mean, they extended my current billet so I didn't have to change duty stations when I was eight months pregnant ... and when Jennifer mentioned that I should have a retirement ceremony, I also realized that, with the government keeping me past the early October date for retirement that I'd originally requested, I won't have to be in maternity uniforms for either the change of command or my retirement ceremony."

"So, Jennifer talked you into a retirement ceremony or party of some kind?"

"No, you did."

"How did I talk you into it?"

"It was a few days after I told you that Jennifer had said that it was time to start planning my retirement. You came to take me to lunch. When we were leaving my office, Jennifer asked you to talk to me about having some kind of ceremony or party. At lunch, you asked me why someone had to talk me into it. I told you that I didn't want to celebrate the end of my career. Do you remember what you told me?"

"Yes, I told you that it would be a celebration of your accomplishments during your years of honorable service to your country. I also said that you shouldn't see it as the end of anything, but the beginning of a new chapter in your life ... one of motherhood, and for you not to worry, because you know what they say: 'Once a Marine, always a Marine'."

She chuckles.

"Yes, all that changed my mind because it made me realize that I'd been thinking about what I was leaving behind, not what was lying ahead ... a life with you and our children."

"Speaking of our children ... I've got three of them in the kitchen waiting for their lunch. Let me go fix their lunch and put Sami down for her nap, then I'll bring in your toast and juice."

"No, help me up. I want to sit down and eat with my family, even if I don't eat much."

**SUNDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1310**

I answer the door and find that Peggy has brought the whole family - Jenny, Dan and Dan, Jr.

"Come in. Mac's in the living room with her feet up. You remember the way, don't you, Peggy?"

"I do. Thanks," she says as she passes me quickly with her baby in her arms.

Jenny follows her mother without uttering a word.

Dan enters last and slaps me on my shoulder. "Soon you and I will be in the same boat, buddy." I must look confused to him, because he adds, "Having a newborn in the house."

"Yeah, not long now," I say, trying to mask my annoyance. I wasn't confused by his statement. However, I am confused as to why he thinks that we're such good friends that the buddy slap and comment were appropriate. It isn't that I don't like the guy, but I don't really know him. Since I defended him, Mac and I have met with Peggy and Dan socially less than a handful of times, but he and I aren't friends. We're acquaintances, at best. I close the door. "Let's go see this son of yours," I say, motioning for him to follow me as I lead the way to the living room.

I enter the living room to see Mac holding the baby in her arms. His head is resting in the crook of her elbow, and her arms are folded over her stomach with her arms and belly supporting the baby's body.

A momentarily flash of her holding our baby in her arms causes me to stop abruptly.

"Hey, buddy, if you're going to stop that fast, you should be outfitted with brake lights. I almost ran into you," Dan says from behind me.

Again, I think that he's being a little too chummy the way he's talking to me, but I have to put up with him for only a couple of hours, so I'll roll with it.

"Sorry about that. I just saw that the baby is sleeping and thought that I should make sure that I enter quietly so as not to wake him." I don't really see us as ever being close friends, so I'm not telling him that I was picturing my wife holding our baby.

"Don't worry about it. Nothing wakes him," Dan says proudly as he walks around me and sits next to his wife on the couch.

"Yes, he's a good baby. Nothing wakes him and, at two weeks old, he's already sleeping four hours at a time. He's been the perfect baby," Peggy adds.

I sit in the chair, and Jenny asks, "Is Mattie here?"

"No, she's back in Virginia. She started her first year of college there last month."

"Oh." She sounds truly pained.

I know from having Mattie around that the voice that she's using means: Great, I'm going to be bored while I have to sit here and listen to all the adults talk about the baby.

"We hope that she'll be able to meet us in Pennsylvania for Christmas. My grandmother has a farm there. We spent Christmas there last year and are planning to do it again this year," I say, trying to start a non-baby conversation with her.

"Is it a real farm?" Jenny asks. I think that she's thankful that someone will talk to her about anything other than her new baby brother.

"Yes, well, it used to be. My grandfather died a long, long time ago, before I was even born. My grandmother worked the farm as a way to make a living to raise my father, but she's in her eighties now, and the farm has long since been paid for, so she doesn't run a real farm any more. She does grow a few things in a garden close to the house every spring. She pickles, cans or freezes what she harvests from her garden. She'll keep some of the items for herself, but she also sells some of her pickled and canned goods at the general store in town for a little extra money."

"And she makes her own jellies, jams and preserves. I had one of her homemade jams on biscuits one morning for breakfast, and I must say that it was better than anything that the Smucker guy has come up with. Right now, I don't even remember which one I tried," Mac says without looking up from the baby asleep in her arms.

"Even better are her homemade cinnamon rolls," I add.

"You mean not out of a can?" Jenny asks.

"That's what I mean. It takes her hours. She's up before the sun, but it's the best smell to wake up to in the morning."

Ty comes into the room. "Dad..." he says before stopping. He apparently forgot that we were having guests today.

"Yes, Ty, what is it?" I ask.

"Where's Abigail?"

"She's playing quietly in her room, waiting for Sami to get up from her nap. Why?"

"I wanted you to know that I found the perfect one."

"If you'll excuse me, "I say before lowering my voice to a whisper. "He's been looking at magazines, trying to see what kind of house we should build. We went to the toy store yesterday, and Abigail saw a dollhouse that she wanted, so Ty and I decided that we're going to build one to give her for Christmas. I've got to go check out what he's found. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I leave with Ty to go to his room to see if we agree on the house that he's chosen.

**NURSERY **

**RABB HOME**

**2130**

I'm walking down the hall to our room, but notice that the door is open and the light is on in the baby's room.

I get to the doorway and see that Mac is sitting in the rocking chair and staring at the crib.

"What are you doing in here?" I say as I enter the room.

"I was just thinking that, in a couple of weeks, this room won't be empty anymore. If I'm sitting in this rocking chair, I'll be holding him or watching him as he sleeps in that crib just a few feet away." After pausing for a moment, she asks, "Why didn't you want to hold the baby?"

"Did you see how little he is? I didn't want to hold such a tiny little thing," I reply, trying to explain my reason.

"I read that the average baby weighs in the six pound range at birth. DJ ... " I give her a funny look. "That's how they're handling the problem of someone wanting to call him Danny or little Dan. They're calling him DJ for Daniel Junior. DJ weighed six pounds and seven ounces. That makes him an average sized baby. Babies just come small, Harm." She's giving me a look that says that she thinks that I'm being silly.

She starts to stand, but I see her struggling and extend my hand to help her up. When she's up on her feet, she says, "Come to think of it, I don't remember you holding little AJ when he was a newborn either."

"It's a bad time for you to find out that I may have a phobia about babies, huh?" I ask, staring at the floor. "But I'm so big and babies are so little."

She moves closer to me, standing at an angle so that her round belly doesn't get in the way of what she wants to do. She stretches up and places a soft kiss on my lips.

When she pulls her lips away from mine, she says, "You're a big guy, but you're aware of your size and know when to be gentle ... like when you pick up Sami or ... " She starts to blush. " ... when you make love to me. When I think of you holding our son, I feel a lot of emotions, but fear isn't one of them. You're a good dad and you're going to be a good father. I'm not the least bit worried."

I put my arms around her and say, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I love you," I add before giving her a little kiss.

"I love you, too," she whispers softly before she says, "I want to get comfortable in our bed and have you hold me."

She must be reading my mind. That's my idea of a perfect way to end the day, too.

**SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

I've sent the kids on ahead to the garage to get in the minivan. I did that so that I could ask Mac a question before we left.

"Mac, Dr. Wallace said that you could have the baby any day now. Are you sure that you should go with us?"

I know that Mac feels like she's shirking her duties as a CO and a Marine by being on medical leave, as well as in her role as a mother since she's been home, but she isn't supposed to be doing much around the house, but taking it easy, which were her doctor's orders.

I also know that it gets under her skin that I make breakfast for everyone before I leave for work and that Sofia is here before I leave in the mornings to shuttle the children to and from school, except on Thursdays when Frank still picks them up and they spend the night with their grandparents. So I know that an outing with the children is important to her, but it doesn't mean that I'm not worried.

"You were there with me at the doctor's office on Thursday when I asked about going with you today. She said that, if I felt any pains, we should head back, but that the walking around wouldn't hurt me. In fact, since I've been on medical leave since Monday - that's five days that I've been stuck at home - I think that it would actually be good for my mental health to get out and about for awhile ... and since Sami will get tired and need to take a nap, it isn't like we're going to be gone all day. Please try to relax, Harm, or no one is going to have any fun," she says, trying to reason with me.

**BATES FARM**

**ESCONDIDO, CA  
1000**

From the main road, the children can see the pumpkin field, so once we've turned onto the property to park the car, the chatter in the backseat is at an enthusiastic all-time high.

Once I've parked the car, sliding the side door open on the minivan can't happen fast enough for the kids.

As excited as they are, they file out in a fairly civilized manner and stand impatiently next to the van while Mac gets out of the car.

After Mac has joined us, I ask, "Is everyone ready to have some fun?"

"Yes!" all three children yell in unison.

From where we parked, we head to the front of the general store. Once there, we huddle for a family conference on what we should do and in what order."

We start at a maze that's been cut out of a cornfield to the right of the general store. The land is flat, and Mac can come with us.

When we finish the maze, the kids tease me that I cheated because I'm tall enough to see over the cornstalks to find the little checkpoint stations.

Actually, I wasn't paying attention to the stations. Sami was holding my hand so that I wouldn't lose her, so I was more interested in keeping an eye on Mac, who was with Ty and Abigail.

The loading area for the hayrack ride is near the exit to the maze, so the kids are ready to jump on, but when Mac sees the tractor pulling an oversized wagon full of hay, she doesn't think that she's up to the bumpy ride - thank goodness - or the big step up onto the mound of hay, so she says that she wants to have a look at the arts and crafts fair on the lawn in front of the general store while I go with the kids on the hayrack ride.

I'm not thrilled with her being left alone, and she knows it, but she makes a pre-emptive strike.

"I have my cellphone with me. If I need you, you're only a few feet away, Harm." Then she gives me a look that matches the one that she gave me earlier this morning when she told me to relax, so I don't argue.

After the hayrack ride, we find Mac among the vendor tents and concession trailers. With Mac back in the group, we head over to the petting zoo.

After we leave the petting zoo, we all wash up before buying some popcorn and cold apple cider for a mid-morning snack while Mac looks through some more of the arts and crafts displays.

After our snack, we head over to the pumpkin patch for the main attraction - searching for the perfect pumpkins to transform into Jack-o-lanterns for Halloween.

The pumpkins are cut off the vine and are laying about in sections. At the entrance to the pumpkin field, Ty gets us a wheelbarrow that's made available for hauling the pumpkins back to the checkout. Mac takes note of the price chart, and we set out for the sign where the medium sized pumpkins are displayed - big enough for making a nice Jack-o-lantern without breaking the bank when buying three of them.

The kids are searching the area that we've told them to search through for their perfect pumpkin. As Mac and I watch them, it's plain that they each have very different personalities.

Sami wants to stop at each pumpkin to examine it from all possible angles. We might be here for some time if she does that with each one. Abigail walks past several, stopping to give further inspection to ones that catch her eye. Ty looks at each pumpkin, but then he picks up the ones that catch his eye to take a closer inspection.

After thirty minutes of careful searching, each child is satisfied that they have the perfect pumpkin.

With the pumpkins in the wheelbarrow, it's too heavy and tipsy for Ty to handle, so I'm put in charge of pushing it to the scales to pay for our selection.

"Is the baby going to be here for Halloween?" Ty asks.

"We don't know for sure, but he's supposed to be. Why?" I ask.

"Because each of us has a pumpkin, but he doesn't," Ty answers.

"He won't be very old, so he won't know that he doesn't have one," Mac says.

"He'll find out when he sees the pictures of our pumpkins," Abigail points out.

I'm about to turn the wheelbarrow around so that they can choose a pumpkin for the baby, but there's no need. Sami spies the answer.

"Look, baby pumpkins for babies," Sami informs us while pointing at a stack of mini pumpkins near the scales where we're headed now.

After a quick scan of the pile, the baby's pumpkin is agreed upon by all three children and, moments later, we're on our way to the car with three medium sized and one baby pumpkin.

**RABB HOME**

**AN HOUR LATER**

The car has been quiet on the way home. Sami has fallen asleep and so has Mac.

I pull into the driveway and hit the button on the automatic garage door opener.

The sound of the garage door lifting causes Mac to stir.

I know that it was important to Mac that she come with us and I'm glad that she went, but I'm relieved that we're home so that she and Sami can take a nap in a more comfortable place.

As I slide the side door open to let Ty and Abigail out of the minivan, I'm looking at a sleepy Mac in the passenger seat, yawning and stretching before getting out of the car.

I'm glad that it's the weekend and I'm home. I'll be sure to keep the kids occupied while Mac takes it easy.


	42. Chapter 42

**PART THREE**

**THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0738 **

**MAC'S POV**

I'm sitting on the end of the bed, staring at my shoes across the room by our bedroom door.

I picked my shoes to use as a focal point while I ride out this latest pain.

Harm enters our bedroom and sees me just sitting there. "Your appointment is at 0845. We're going to be late if you don't get moving."

I don't know if I want to tell him now that I've been having pains through the night and that I think I'm in labor.

Since I'm not a hundred percent sure, I think that I'll wait until we get to the doctor's office. I'll tell Dr. Wallace about my pains and let her tell me if I'm really in labor.

"Is Sofia here?" I ask.

"She's been here, but now she's gone with the kids to take the two older ones to school."

"Then if you'll slide my shoes over here so I can slip them on, I'll be ready to go."

**EXAM ROOM**

**DR. WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**0849**

Dr. Wallace enters the room after a quick rap on the door.

"Hello, Sarah." She smiles and then says, "Hello, Harm."

"Good morning, Doctor," we reply in unison before she looks at the chart and speaks again.

"Sarah, you haven't been going into the office or fielding any work related questions, have you?"

"No," I answer.

"Anything going on at home? Are your children all healthy ... not fighting with a neighbor or anything like that, are you?"

"No," I reply again.

"Why do you ask?" Harm questions.

"Because Sarah's blood pressure has been running a little above normal, but stable. However, today, it's elevated again. It isn't a drastic increase, but given her bouncing numbers during pregnancy and being this close to her due date ... I don't like it. I was hoping that there was a reason that would ease my mind," Dr. Wallace replies to Harm.

"How about being in pain? Doesn't that affect your blood pressure?" I ask.

"Yes, pain can elevate your blood pressure," Dr. Wallace says, eyeing me like she knows what I'm about to say, but wanting to hear me say it.

"I was having a contraction when they were taking my blood pressure. I think I'm in labor."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Harm is upset that he's just now hearing about it.

"Because I knew that we had an early appointment this morning, and I'm not sure that they're real labor pains. So I thought that I'd wait until I could ask the doctor before I mentioned it," I answer.

"You didn't sleep well last night. You were restless. Were you having pains all night?" Harm asks, and I'm not sure that he's really gotten the drift yet that the baby might come today.

I started to give him the time of the first one, but decide that just a simple 'yes' is a better way to go right now.

"Yes."

"Sarah, you said that you weren't sure that they are labor pains. Tell me where you feel them," Dr. Wallace asks.

"It starts here ... " I put my hand over a portion of my lower back. " ... but then it moves around across the front," I reply, moving my hand across my lower abdomen."

"You said that you were having them last night. When you changed your position, did the pain stop?"

"No."

"I want you to think about all the pains that you've had from last night through now. Has the level of discomfort changed or stayed the same?"

"The ones last night made me uncomfortable and restless. This morning, they've been more like bad cramps ... so I'd have to say that they're getting worse."

"Can you tell me if they're happening with any regularity?"

"They've been coming closer together. The time between the one that I had in the car and the one that I had while I was getting my blood pressure taken was eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds."

She looks at me strangely. I guess she didn't need it down to the second.

"Do you know how long it lasted?" she asks.

I open my mouth to answer, but another pain begins, and I offer her an affirmative nod instead. I begin to breathe through the pain and see her look at her watch and then at me.

"About sixty-five seconds on that one," she says as my pain subsides.

"And eleven minutes and nine seconds since the last one," I add.

Dr. Wallace makes a note on my chart before speaking again. "I'd say that you're in labor."

"So she's going to have the baby today?" Harm asks like he doesn't quite believe it.

"Every woman's labor is different, so there's no way to be absolutely sure, but it's early in the day, so it could happen today or ... could be tomorrow," Dr. Wallace answers, putting a bright smile on his face before she tells us that she wants more information before she decides whether or not to send me to the hospital.

After a pelvic exam and a recheck of my blood pressure, Dr. Wallace is conflicted on what she wants to do. She says that, normally, she'd send a patient home with contractions that are still more than ten minutes apart, but, though my blood pressure was back in line while not having a contraction, she doesn't like the number that it was while I was having one.

After a few minutes, she decides to be cautious and have me admitted to the hospital where my blood pressure and the baby can be monitored more closely.

Since I didn't tell Harm that I might be in labor, we don't have my bag with us, so she does give us permission to go home to get my bag before Harm takes me to check into the hospital.

**THE TRIP HOME TO GET MY BAG **

**0930**

Harm and I talk about the children in the car on the way to the house to get my bag.

Sami isn't home when we get there since she attends preschool in the mornings, so she won't know that anything's going on until she gets home and I'm not there, and I don't want to worry her.

Since the children spend Thursday nights with their grandparents, Harm and I decide to have Sophia tell Sami that she'd spoken to us and that we're okay, but that my appointment was taking longer than expected. That explanation will pacify our three-year-old at least until after her nap.

After we've picked up my bag, Harm drives around the corner to see if Frank's home.

Frank's there, so Harm is able to talk to him face-to-face and explain that I'm in labor and that we're on our way to the hospital. Harm also tells him what Sofia is going to tell Sami and asks if he and Trish can tell the children that he'd seen me and that the baby and I are fine, but that it was time for the baby to be born and I had to go to the hospital. Of course, Frank agrees, and then he immediately tells Harm to get me there as quickly as possible.

As Harm backs out of his parents' driveway, he says, "He's so excited that I'll bet that he's in there calling my mom right now."

**OB/GYN FLOOR **

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER **

**1230**

As anxious as I am to see what my son looks like, I'm not happy about having to go to the hospital just yet. I tried both bribery and begging to get Harm to take a more scenic route to our destination, but to no avail. The couple of minutes stop at his parents' home was my only reprieve. Harm took me from there to the hospital in what seemed like record time, though it wasn't. He's much too protective to speed with me in the car.

Since most women aren't in the hospital at this point in their labor, they placed a fetal monitor on me for the first thirty minutes that I was here, but the baby showed no signs of distress even during contractions, so it was removed so that I could walk the halls to help with labor. They also put in an IV line - they said that it was a precaution in case they need to administer medication - but I'm finding it to be damned inconvenient.

I've been here for two hours and fifteen minutes. However, based on the time that I recall thinking that this pain feels different than the others that I've been experiencing, I've been in labor for at least thirteen hours.

I've just settled on my hospital bed for a brief break from walking when Dr. Wallace comes in the room. "Hello, Sarah. Where's Harm?"

"I'm hungry, but they said that I couldn't have anything in case there's a complication. They did say that I could have some ice chips. He went to get them for me."

"Well, let me close the door and give you a quick check to see if you've made any progress."

**MINUTES LATER**

There's a knock on the door, and then Harm sticks his head in the room.

"Come in, Harm. We're done," Dr. Wallace says.

Harm steps into the room. "Dr. Wallace, I didn't know that you were going to be here."

I know the answer already, so I'm more interested in what's in Harm's hands ... or rather, what's supposed to be. 'Where are my ice chips?' I wonder while Harm talks with Dr. Wallace.

"Sarah's in good hands, but I had a long enough break between patients to come over and check on her. I'm pleased to say that she's progressing nicely, which means that you might be meeting your son later today, Harm," Dr. Wallace answers.

"Really?" he asks with nervous excitement.

He actually sounds like one of the children when we tell them that we're going to do something special - they have to check to be sure that they aren't dreaming by verifying with 'really?' That's what I'm thinking when Dr. Wallace confirms her answer to Harm.

"There is no way for me to be sure…babies are very unpredictable. I can tell you though that, based on the progress that Sarah has made since I examined her in my office, I believe that your son will be arriving before midnight. Now, here's a question for you. Is there some special reason why today is important?

Harm looks down at the floor like a bashful little boy. "Today is my birthday," Harm replies, and then his face breaks into a fighter jock grin.

"Well, happy birthday, Harm!" Dr. Wallace says with a big smile. "It looks like you might receive a special birthday present today."

That's when I burst into tears without warning. I go from fine to full-out sobs in two seconds flat.

Harm's at my side in less time than it takes to take a breath.

"I almost forgot. I did bring your ice chips," he says apologetically.

All I can do is shake my head and cry.

"I'll just put them here so you can reach them," he says as he puts the little Dixie cup of ice chips down on the table that's angled across the edge of my bed before he slips his arm around my shoulders and lets me bury my head in his side to cry it out.

**LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES LATER**

**HARM'S POV**

Before Dr. Wallace left the room, she signaled me to meet her in the hall. It was easier for me to get away from Mac than I'd thought it would be with the waterworks flowing.

It seems that hearing me mention my birthday reminded Mac that she'd ordered a cake last week, and she'd been going to pick it up later today after I'd gone to work. I told her that I could get my mother or Frank to pick it up, and the tears stopped as quickly as they'd started. She'd then shooed me from the room to go call to make sure that it would get done.

I see Dr. Wallace standing at the nurse's station and rapidly approach her, hoping that this isn't one of those times like in the movies when they call the spouse out to tell them the bad news so that the patient doesn't get upset.

"Dr. Wallace." I say her name, and she looks up from the computer where she's entering some information.

"One second, I'm entering some notes and orders in Sarah's record."

"It isn't bad, is it?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Up to this point, I'd thought that I was keeping it together.

She stops typing and looks up at me. "No, it isn't bad, unless you think that the sudden bout of crying was bad. I wanted to warn you about the personality changes that fathers complain about during this stage of labor. It's probably going to get worse - and it won't always be crying. You'd be surprised at the things that I've heard during a woman's labor tirades." She snickers before getting serious again. "I've instructed the nurses to let her take one more walk up and down the hall before they put the fetal monitor back on. Her blood pressure has crept up a little, so I want to monitor both her and the baby from here on out as a safety precaution. Do you have any concerns or questions that I can answer for you now?"

"There isn't a problem though, right?" I ask.

Even though I think that I've read every book on the subject, with Mac in labor, I can't remember any of it, and frankly, I don't care about any of the facts. I'm just concerned about Mac and the baby.

"Not at this time. Her blood pressure is a concern, but that's why we're going to get her into bed and closely monitor her and the baby. If her situation changes, the nurses will notify me. In the meantime, know that this is what we do here. Sarah is being well taken care of. Try not to worry, okay?" I nod in agreement. "I'll be back to check on her after I've finished seeing the rest of my patients at the office. I'll talk to you again then, all right?"

"Okay," I say, but inside my head, I'm screaming, 'You can't leave her!' I know that Mac isn't the only pregnant woman in this city, but she's the center of my world.

"Just between you and me, I don't think that you're going to be waiting until midnight. I think that your son is going to arrive at a much more reasonable hour. Today is certainly going to be a birthday that you won't forget," Dr. Wallace states almost as an afterthought.

'Birthday ... the cake,' I think.

"You're right about that. If you'll excuse me, I've got to make a call about a birthday cake."

Dr. Wallace shakes her head in disbelief, thinking, 'I don't know about other doctors experiences, but I think that some of the fathers are just as emotionally all over the place during labor as the mothers are,' as Harm walks away towards the waiting room to make his call.

**DELIVERY ROOM**

**1700**

**HARM'S POV**

It was on our return trip from the end of the hall to her room during her last walk that Mac's water broke. From that moment on, her contractions came much closer together and became much more intense.

I've delivered a baby and was present when little AJ was born, but standing here next to Mac, holding her hand and coaching her through yet another contraction, I have to confess that it's a totally different feeling when it's your wife having your baby.

Except for her little "meltdown" over the birthday cake that she'd ordered for me, Mac has been calm.

When Mac was moved to the delivery room almost two hours ago, she looked tired, but the first time that she was told to push, she pulled up energy from somewhere and has been completely focused on delivering our son.

I've always known that she had an inner strength that was stronger than most men I know, but today I've discovered that I'd seen only the tip of the iceberg. She's so much stronger than I'd imagined, and seeing her strength has kept me strong so that I can do what I need to do for her.

"He's crowning. On the next contraction, I want you to push really hard, Sarah. One good, long, hard push, and you'll be meeting your son," Dr. Wallace says, bringing me out of my thoughts.

Mac and I are gazing at each other when the next contraction hits her just moments after the doctor has spoken. She squeezes my hand, and her eyes are fixed on mine as she begins to push.

"That's it, Sarah, a little longer. You're almost there."

A few moments later, the doctor announces, "The head is out. We're going to suction his nose and mouth while we wait for your next contraction. Then we're going to get those shoulders out, and the rest will be easy."

The next contraction starts and, less than a minute later, Dr. Wallace says, "Congratulations, it's a boy!" About that time, we hear a loud squalling sound as our son makes his arrival known.

Dr. Wallace places our son across Mac's stomach, and he calms immediately.

I look at Mac, and she has tears in her eyes as she looks down on our son.

I have tears in my eyes even before I look towards our son, who's resting on her belly.

After a brief look at him, I lean over to kiss her forehead, and she whispers, "Happy birthday, Harm."

"Do you want to cut the cord, Dad?" Dr. Wallace asks, breaking the moment, but I can't recover that quickly, so I offer only a nod.

"Then you'll have to step down this way a little," Dr. Wallace instructs.

Once the cord is cut, the delivery room takes on a different level of energy and there's a flurry of activity. Dr. Wallace is still with Mac, and a team is checking over our son - my son.

How is it that I've known that this baby was coming for about eight months, yet standing here, thinking about him and seeing that crying little baby a few feet away, I'm finding it hard to wrap my head around the idea that I had anything to do with creating him?

**OB WAITING ROOM**

**1845 **

**TRISH'S POV**

Yet another man in scrubs is walking towards the lounge to announce the arrival of his bundle of joy. He's too short to be my son.

I start digging in my purse for my phone. I hear the clapping and cheers of the other family who's just been told that he's a proud father.

I give up trying to locate my cellphone. I've left him three messages already. He'll come to talk to us as soon as he gets them.

I need to relax. I sit down in the hard plastic chair next to Tyler and Abigail. I'd brought some coloring books, crayons and paper to help entertain them while we wait. I think that Ty is a lot like Harm. He's all boy on the outside, but sensitive on the inside. Thirty minutes ago, he asked Abigail if she wanted to play tic tac toe. I think that he sensed how worried she is about Mac. I've tried to put her mind at ease, but she's understandably nervous. Even though I was told that she lost her mother in a car accident, I think that she's worried that she might lose her new mother, too.

After watching Ty and Abigail play a couple of games of tic tac toe, I look over a couple of chairs to watch Frank, who has Sami in his lap. He's been entertaining her by reading to her and, surprisingly enough, she's been content to just sit here and wait with us.

I'm satisfied that we're all holding up okay and rest my head against the wall. I start to close my eyes, but the sight of a man who's the right height and build, and who's headed this way catches my attention, so I stand.

He enters the room. It's Harm.

"Mom, when I turned on my cellphone to call you, it went crazy with messages: three from you, telling me that you were here and two from Mattie, asking me if I knew anything yet. I guess you or Frank called Mattie to tell her that Mac was in labor."

That's all he has time to get out. "Daddy!" Sami says with excitement as she wiggles off Frank's lap.

That's how he becomes aware that his other children are here.

"We called, and the hospital said that it was okay if we brought the children here. Abigail was so worried about Mac and the baby, and we couldn't very well bring one and not the other two, could we?" I offer in our defense.

It's then that Abigail asks, "Are Mac and the baby okay?"

"Yes, Momma and the baby are fine, Princess. You want to go see him?" Harm asks

"Can I?" she asks excitedly.

"You sure can. He's in the nursery. You can all see him through the window ... just follow me," Harm says.

**NURSERY OBSERVATION WINDOW**

**1854**

"Which one is ours?" Sami asks as she sees all the babies through the glass.

A nurse comes up to the glass, and Harm raises his arm to show her his wristband that identifies who he is and who we want to see. "The nurse is going to bring your baby brother up closer so that you can get a real good look," Harm tells them.

We all watch as the nurse moves back among the babies and then pushes the little bed forward labeled with a sign that says 'Baby Boy Rabb'.

"Oh, he's perfect, dear," I gush as I look at my newest grandson.

"Congratulations, Son," Frank says, slapping Harm on the back.

"Thanks," he says without taking his eyes off his son. "Mac ordered me to come to the nursery with the baby while they finished up with her. She should be in her room in a little while. The pediatric nurses told me that the way it usually works is that the baby stays here for the first couple of hours. Then, when mom is settled into her room, they take the baby to the mother to see if he's ready to eat. After he's eaten, they'll bring him back to the nursery for observation and to let mom get some rest until it's time for him to eat again. By morning, he'll be in the room with Mac ... and, believe it or not, they said that they could be released by tomorrow afternoon," Harm explains.

"Happy birthday, Harm," I tell him while staring at my grandson.

"Thanks, Mom," he says as he slips his arm around my shoulders, still staring at his son. That's when I notice Abigail reaching for Harm's hand. I'm holding Sami so that Frank could give Ty a boost to get a better view.

"You want me to pick you up so that you can get a better look?" Harm asks Abigail. She nods and, a moment later, she's up in Harm's arms, joining the rest of us as we stare at Baby Boy Rabb.

Abigail looks so comfortable with Harm holding her. I wonder if that's the first time that she's let him pick her up. Then my mind is drawn back to my new grandson.

"I can't read the card on the end of the bed, so tell me the facts. You know, how big he is, his name ... " I ask.

"His official entrance into the world came at 1729. He weighed seven pounds, ten ounces and is twenty-two inches long. He doesn't have a name yet because Mac and I still haven't agreed on one," Harm says with a grin.

"Well, you're out of time. You've got to name him before you take him home. I don't think that Baby Boy Rabb is going to work," I say jokingly.

"Well, take a long look at him and see if a name strikes you," Harm says with a smile that reminds me of forty-four years ago - the one that his father had on his face after Harm was born.

"How's Mac doing?" I ask.

"She's understandably tired, but other than that, she's fine," Harm explains.

"How are you doing?" I ask him.

"I'm on top of the world," he says with that same proud grin that his father wore.

After a couple of moments, he asks me, "Do you want to go see Mac?"

"Yes, but we need to get the kids home and put them to bed," I say, answering my son's question.

"I want to see Momma before we go home," Sami whines.

"Yes, please?" Abigail adds, and Ty stands there nodding his head with a begging look in his eyes.

"Well, let me go see if Momma's in her room yet and see if she's awake. If she is, you can go in and tell her good night before you go home," Harm tells them.

"Do we have to go to school in the morning?" Abigail asks.

"Yes, there's no reason why you should miss a day of school. Momma and the baby won't be home before tomorrow afternoon. Maybe they'll be home by the time you get home from school," Harm says.

"Really?" Ty asks.

"The doctor said that Momma and the baby will probably go home sometime tomorrow afternoon, so it's possible," Harm answers.

Here we all are, three adults and three children ... six sets of eyes, staring in the big glass window at a little bundle swaddled in blue ... Mac's labor of love ... Harm's son.


	43. Chapter 43

**STORY TWENTY-SEVEN - OVERWHELMED**

**PART ONE **

**THURSDAY, OCTOBER 25, 2007 **

**OB WARD**

**MAC'S ROOM**

**1915**

**HARM'S POV**

I open the door, and Mac turns to see who it is. "Hey," she says softly.

I move quickly to her and take her hand in mine. "How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Tired," she replies with a sigh.

I smile. "I'll bet, so you probably don't feel up to visitors just yet, do you?"

"Who's here?"

"Mom, Frank and the kids."

"I want to see them, but I need a minute…give me the brush out of my bag."

"Mac, you look fine. Relax, and I'll go get them."

She nods her head, but as I turn to go tell everyone that she's awake, I see her running her fingers through her hair as an improvised comb.

I step out into the hall. "Is Momma awake?" Ty asks.

"She is. Mom, why don't you and Frank go on in while the kids and I have a little talk?"

"Are you sure, dear?" Mom asks.

"Yes, go on in."

I hear my mother rap once on the door as a signal to Mac that her first visitors are about to enter.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**MAC'S POV**

"Mac, how are you feeling?" Trish asks me as she approaches the bed.

"I'm tired, but other than that, I'm fine. Did you see him?"

"Through the nursery window, but that's all it took. I'm in love with him already and I can't wait to hold him," Trish answers.

"Is there anything that we can do for you, Mac?" Frank asks.

"Nothing that I can think of at the moment."

"Harm tells us that the two of you haven't agreed on our grandson's name yet," Trish says disbelievingly.

"No, we haven't. The list that we're currently considering is in the side pocket of my bag. If one of you will get it, maybe you can tell us if any of the names strike you as the right one."

**OUTSIDE MAC'S ROOM**

**HARM'S POV**

"I know that you want to see Momma, but I don't want you to be upset or think that she's sick when you see the IV or hear the machine come on that's taking Momma's blood pressure. It's all normal stuff for a woman who's just had a baby. Does anyone have any questions?"

The only response comes from Sami, who says in a whiny voice, "Want to see Momma now!"

I know that the cause of their father's death was a sudden heart attack, so I don't know that the girls got to see him before he passed. However, knowing that their mother died of breast cancer, it's possible that Abigail may remember seeing her in the hospital, so I think that it was important for me to talk to them before they went in to see Mac.

However, I don't think that saying any more when they all seem so anxious to see her would be beneficial, so I concede, saying, "Then, let's go in to see Momma."

I stand up from my squatting position, scooping up Sami in the process to take them into Mac's room.

Ty and Abigail are right behind me as I push Mac's door open a crack. "Are you ready for three more visitors?"

"If they're my children, you bet I'm ready," she says with a huge smile.

I have no idea where she's getting the energy to be cheerful like this.

I step to the side, holding the door open as Abigail and Ty enter the room. Ty walks right over to Mac's bed and says as if he's seeking conformation, "Dad says that you're okay."

"Yes, I'm fine." Mac motions for the girls to come closer.

"Momma's big belly's gone!" Sami says with excitement.

Mac laughs. "Yes, because the baby isn't in there anymore."

I hold my breath, hoping that none of the children ask how the baby got out.

Thankfully, Sami is three and moves quickly from one thing to another. Her next question is about the slip of paper that my mother is reading.

"Grandma, what's the paper you got?"

"The paper that I have is a list that your momma asked Grandpa and me to look over to see if we like any of the names on it more than the others."

"Do you see one you like?" I ask.

"I know that it was funny when your Uncle Charlie got stuck in the chimney that Christmas, but I hardly think that's a reason to name your son after him," Trish says with a laugh.

"I hadn't thought about Charles being Uncle Charlie's given name, so when Harriet suggested Charles and Adam as names, Mac added the names to our list," I explain.

"Not Adam," Sami says.

"Why not?" I ask Sami.

"Because Adam at my school isn't nice to me."

A nurse enters the room and ends our baby name talk saying, "Excuse me, but I need a few minutes with the new momma."

"It's getting late. We really should get the children home," my mom says while patting Frank on the arm.

After each of our children gets a hug from Mac, I lean over and place a kiss on the top of Mac's head before saying, "I'm going to walk them out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

**MAC'S ROOM**

**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

I was planning to walk my parents and the kids only to the elevator, but Sami's head resting on my shoulder and her arms wrapped around my neck was a sign that her bedtime was near, so I carried her all the way down to the minivan.

After a round of 'good nights' between the children and myself at the car, I headed back up to see Mac and the baby.

In the elevator on the way up to the OB floor, I decided to see Mac first, but enter quietly. If she's asleep, I'm going to head over to the nursery to see my son.

I reach Mac's door and push it open. I enter to find that she's awake and alert. Our eyes meet, and she speaks.

"They aren't going to take the IV out yet. My blood pressure has come down, but the nurse said that it's still elevated, so the doctor might order medication to bring it down faster. So, for now, the IV stays in because it makes it easier to give me meds." She sounds worried.

I'm not sure what she needs to hear, so I don't say anything. Instead, I sit beside her on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders. As my arm settles around her, she speaks again.

"I asked if they gave me something to lower my blood pressure if I'd still be able to breast-feed. They said that it really depended on which medication she ordered, but, as a general rule, probably not. The nurse tried to make me feel better by telling me that it probably wouldn't be a permanent situation, that once I was off the medication, I could breast-feed. I want to see my baby. I want to hold him." Her last words are mixed with tears.

I drop my hand and begin to rub her back in an attempt to comfort her. She tilts her head towards me until it's resting against my shoulder.

I continue to rub her back and offer what I hope will be comforting words. "I understand that you want to hold him now, but you'll be holding him soon."

She looks up at me and asks, "Have you held him yet?"

"Not yet. When I went with him to the nursery, the nurses were fussing over him, and I was thinking that I should've stayed with you…but I wanted to be with him, too. Then, I started thinking about needing to call my parents and Mattie to tell them that he'd arrived. So, once the nurses had him settled in, I left the nursery to check on you and then I went to make my calls. That's when I found out that my parents were here at the hospital, so I called Mattie and then I went to find Mom and Frank, and that's when I found out that they'd brought the kids here with them."

"What did Mattie say about her baby brother?"

"She's thrilled that he's here and healthy and that you're okay. She did ask if we'd chosen a name yet, and, when I said no, she had another name for us to consider, Francis."

"We've been working on narrowing down the list of names for weeks. So, I don't think that we should throw any new names into the mix at this point."

"Well, based on my mother's comments about the name Charles and Sami's view of Adam, I think that we can eliminate those two."

"I agree," she says, sitting up and reaching for the list that's laying on the over-the-bed table.

I look over Mac's shoulder at the list of names.

"Mac, have you ever wondered where Mattie has been coming up with these names? I mean, what if they're names of the good-looking boy of the moment? How will it be if we pick a name that she suggested and, in a couple of weeks or a few months, she decides that he's a jerk?"

"You could have a point. Well, out of the names left on the list, Andrew, Albert, Marcus and Jeffery were all names that Mattie has suggested. While we're talking about our eldest, I think that we should take Thomas off the list. I know that you put the name on the list, and it's still there, but when I mentioned to Mattie in an email that Thomas might be a contender, she responded in much the same way that your mother did about the name Charles. She wanted to remind us that her father's given name is Thomas. I don't think that she'd be comfortable with us naming the baby Thomas."

I watch as Mac picks up the pen off the table and starts to cross off the names that we've just eliminated in the last few minutes.

My eyes peruse the list as she makes lines through the names, but when one of the remaining names catches my eye, I speak.

"I know that you put the name Jackson on the list and I like the name, but I just thought of something. Ty will want to shorten it, and that will make him Jack. When Keeter hears that, he'll think that he was named after him, even if he wasn't."

"Good point…and no aviator needs an ego boost," Mac says as she puts a line through the name Jackson. "That leaves these names: Alexander, Franklin, Mark and Benjamin."

"Then how about Alexander Franklin…Franklin Mark…Mark Benjamin or Benjamin Alexander?"

"Benjamin Alexander doesn't sound bad, but it doesn't sound right." A scowl takes over her features as she continues, "This would've been so much easier if you'd gone along with naming him after you. We could've called him Trey for Harmon Rabb III instead of letting anyone call him little Harm."

Her tone says that she's more than a little annoyed with me, but it's the big brown eyes that are working on my resolve. I'm about to give in to her name choice when someone entering the room draws my attention away from Mac's pleading gaze to look towards the door. When I glance at the doorway, I find it odd that the nurse who came in is holding the door open like she's waiting for someone else to enter.

"Good, you're awake. I've brought news. Your doctor said that, since your blood pressure is dropping, even though it's gradual, she isn't going to order meds at this time, but the IV stays in for now in case things change. However, since you aren't getting any meds now, we've brought you a little visitor."

A moment later, the bed labeled 'Baby Boy Rabb' is being pushed into the room by a second nurse.

Mac's face lights up.

The first nurse checks Mac's bracelet. "This is Wanda," she says, introducing us to the second nurse as she steps back to check the baby's ID bracelet.

Wanda has checked the baby's bracelet and steps forward to check Mac's as she says, "Hello."

Mac says hello, but her eyes haven't left the baby bed. I'm not sure that, from her position, she can really see him, but she's certainly trying to get a glimpse of him.

"I'm a lactation consultant. Are you ready to give nursing your baby a try?"

"Yes, I'm ready," Mac says, pulling up energy from some reserve inside her that allows her to say it with a full and glowing smile.

Wanda looks at me. "Dad, if you'd give us a couple of minutes ... "

"Does he have to leave?" Mac asks.

"Sometimes the baby won't latch on because he gets distracted by daddy's voice, so I've found that it goes smoother if, at least the very first time, it's just mom and the baby," Wanda replies, sounding apologetic.

"I can be quiet," I offer.

"Then I'll leave it up to you," she says, looking at Mac, but her expression tells Mac what she'd prefer.

"You haven't eaten anything since breakfast, so you should go get something to eat," Mac suggests without breaking her eye contact with the baby's bed.

"I'll be back," I say and head to the door.

I see Wanda scoop my son out of his bed and hear Mac sigh as he comes into her view. I stop at the door and turn, hoping to get a glimpse of Mac with our son.

I watch as Wanda places our baby in Mac's arms and I get to witness the most wonderful sight of my life…my wife holding my son in her arms.

"I want you to just hold your little guy for a few minutes. Since you still have the blood pressure cuff and your IV line in, I want to make sure that you feel comfortable with holding him before we move on to nursing," Wanda says, but my gaze is fixed on my wife and son.

Wanda turns, sees that I'm still in the room and staring at my wife and son. "You don't have to go far or be gone long. A cup of coffee in the waiting room at the end of the hall ought to do it. We just want to let mom and baby get comfortable before they have an audience," Wanda says softly to me.

I nod in Wanda's direction, showing my understanding and pull the door open a little wider to exit.

As I step into the hall, my thoughts are on the vision of my son in her arms. Though I want to hold him, Mac has gone through so much to get to this day that I think that it's only fair that she's the first one of us to hold him.

**OB WARD WAITING ROOM**

I enter the waiting room and scan the room for a coffee machine. Once I've spied the machine over in the corner, I move over to it, looking at my watch.

Once I've prepared the coffee the way I like it, I pick up the Styrofoam cup and take a couple of steps before I sit down in an empty chair.

I take a gulp of the coffee and I'm promptly sorry. It's hot, but bitter. It must have been sitting on the warmer all day. I didn't want the coffee in the first place.

I stand and throw the cup with the remaining coffee in the trash. I'm going back to Mac's room.

**MAC'S ROOM**

I was gone for as long as I could stand to be and I'm expecting resistance from Wanda.

Wanda's back is to the door and obstructing my view of Mac and the baby when I enter the room, but, to my surprise, when she turns to address me, I don't get the stern look that I was expecting. Instead, she has a smile.

"Welcome back, Dad. I think they've got the hang of it. If Mom is okay with you staying, it's okay with me," Wanda says in a soft and understanding tone.

I take a step towards Mac's bed. I didn't say anything or, if I did, I simply didn't realize it, but Wanda moves to the side and lets me step into her place next to the bed.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Wanda says, but no one in the room acknowledges her because Mac's eyes are locked on my face, and my attention is focused on our child at her breast.

We're both so in awe that we don't hear Wanda leave the room.

"Thank you, Harm," she whispers.

"What are you thanking me for?" I ask without taking my eyes off my son.

Her voice cracks as she says, "For him."

I pull my gaze from my son and look into her eyes. "I should be thanking you."

"When the doctor told me that I had less than a five percent chance…" Mac's voice becomes heavy with emotion, and she takes in a shallow breath, not wanting to disturb our nursing son. "…I never thought that I'd ever hold a baby of my own. Thank you for doing what you had to do to make this happen."

I apply a soft kiss to her lips. "We did have a deal," I say with a raised eyebrow and a smile, hoping to make her smile.

It works, and she replies with a slight, tired grin, "That's right. You did promise."

The moment between us is broken when a voice comes from the doorway. "How are things going in here?"

**MINUTES LATER **

"Does he have to go back to the nursery?" Mac asks as Wanda places our sleeping son with a full belly back into his bed.

"The nurses will be coming and going from your room for most of the night, and you'll be nursing your baby every couple of hours, so take advantage of the times when we have him in the nursery to get some rest. However, I don't have to rush him back, so, Dad, have you had a chance to hold your son yet?"

"No, but if he's supposed to go back to the nursery -"

Wanda cuts me off. "I figured. You struck me as one of those guys who thinks that he's going to break the baby. He's asleep, so he'll be still. Have a seat in the chair, and I'll hand him to you so that you can hold him for a few minutes before I take him back to the nursery."

I do as she instructed and take a seat in the chair. Then Wanda turns to me with my son in her arms, saying, "You see how I'm supporting his head? That's the most important thing to remember."

Her words have seemingly just left her mouth when she's standing next to the chair and lowering him into my arms.

As I cradle my son in my arms, Wanda softly tells me, "There's a first-time father's class at eight every morning. You're welcome to come. Although it isn't required, I think that it'll address your concerns, so I recommend that you attend. The nurse will cover the basics in about a fifteen or twenty-minute program, depending on the number of questions that she fields at the end."

It's Mac's turn to sit staring at the scene in front of her…the only man whom she'd ever thought of as being the father of her child, cradling their son in his arms. The corners of her mouth start to turn up into a smile. She'd have to tell Harm that he was right about one thing. Their son did look tiny in his arms, but what a pair they were going to make. She continued to look on in awe at her husband and son, love for both of them swelling her heart.

For as nervous as I was about holding him, now that he's in my arms, I don't want to stop. As I hold him, I feel a bond, at least from my perspective, forming between us. In fact, it's already strong enough that, when Wanda lifts him from my arms to take him to the nursery, I immediately feel the loss of the connection. I can't let go so easily and, this time, Mac doesn't have to order or even ask me to go with him back to the nursery.

I stand. "I'm going to go with him. I'll be back in a few minutes," I tell Mac as I move to the side of my son's bed to escort Wanda and him back to the nursery.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**2200**

When I returned to Mac's room after making sure that our son was safely back in the nursery, I was prepared to take up the name conversation, but she was asleep, so I sat down in the chair next to her bed to let her rest.

I eventually drifted off to sleep myself, but a nurse coming in to take Mac for another walk down the hall woke me. Then it seemed like only minutes before the next nurse came in to check something, waking us again.

I hear Mac's voice in too soft a whisper for me to make out the words. I open my eyes. "Mac?" I say like a question in a husky voice and in a volume just above a whisper.

"I was trying not to wake you," the nurse says apologetically.

"My blood pressure has dropped enough that they're going to take out the IV, and they're going to be taking my blood pressure every thirty minutes instead of every fifteen minutes," Mac informs me.

"That's great," I say in a voice louder than I'd meant to use, but her blood pressure being down enough that apparently medication is no longer under consideration and that it can be monitored less frequently caused me to have a sense of relieved excitement that, in my semi-awake state, I couldn't censor.

It takes only another minute or two for the nurse to complete her tasks. Once she's left the room, I lean back in the chair and close my eyes to resume my nap, but then Mac says my name, which has me sitting up to see what she wants.

"What do you need?" I ask.

"Being in the hospital all day and night is no way to spend your birthday. You should go home and get some restful sleep in a bed."

"I think that it was a great way to spend my birthday. I got to meet my son ... " I scoot up to the edge of the chair. " ... and I haven't had a chance to tell you what else happened." I pause to get her curiosity up. "When we were all looking at the baby through the nursery window, Abigail wanted me to pick her up. I know that she wanted to get a better view of her baby brother, but she let me pick her up and she didn't seem uncomfortable about being in my arms. She didn't just take a look and want down, either. She let me hold her until I mentioned coming in to see you. So I'd say that I've had a really good birthday - spending it at the hospital or not."

"I know they said that you could stay with me all night and I know that you've been worried about me, but I'm doing well enough that they took out the IV. I feel fine and the baby's fine. They say that I should be going home tomorrow. Don't you think that at least one of us should've had enough restful sleep to take care of our other three children when we get there? I know that I'd sleep better here knowing that you were taking care of yourself and getting a good night's sleep there. Please go home."

When she looks at me with those pleading brown eyes, how am I supposed to say no to that? I guess that's the point. I'm not supposed to say no.

I take her hand in mine. "I'll leave under one condition ... that you note that I'm leaving under protest."

"Duly noted."

I stand to place a gentle kiss on her lips and, when I pull my lips away, I whisper, "I love you."

I open my eyes to see her warm smile. "I love you, too."

She looks tired, but so beautiful.

"I'll see you in the morning," she tells me.

I place a kiss on her forehead and say, "I'll be here." Then I reluctantly leave her room.

I stop by the nurses' station to make sure that they have my cellphone number in case they need to reach me and then I head to the nursery to see my son once more before I leave the hospital.

**BURNETT RESIDENCE**

**2312**

I'm glad that I have a key to my parents' house. I didn't want to wake anyone, but I had a feeling in the car when I left the hospital headed for home that I should stop and check on our other children.

The night light in the hall illuminates the room enough for me to see that Ty is sleeping peacefully when I peek in my old room before I take a few steps down the hall to where the girls sleep when they spend the night.

There's a night light in the girls' room, so, when I reach the doorway, I see two shiny brown eyes peering out from under Abigail's covers. In the time that it's taken me to look over to see that Sami is sleeping soundly, Abigail has rolled over to face the wall.

I step into the room and move quickly to Abigail's bed. I sit down on the edge of her bed and whisper, "I know that you're awake."

"Is Momma okay?" she asks.

I wish that Mac were here. Abigail just referred to her as 'Momma' and not 'Mac' for the first time.

"She's feeling so much better that she told me to leave the hospital so that I could get some sleep." I reach over and put my hand on her arm. "She should be home some time tomorrow, but since we don't know exactly what time, you may be spending tomorrow night here with Grandma and Grandpa, too." Abigail rolls back over and sits up. "You know that, because she loves you, she's missing you just as much as you're missing her, right?"

She looks up at me with those big brown eyes that remind me so much of Mac's. "Are you sure that she misses me…us?"

"I'm sure. Do you want to know how I know?" I ask.

"How?"

"Because, even though I know that I needed to be with Momma and the baby, and even though I know that Grandma and Grandpa love you almost as much as Momma and I do - I missed you, so I know that Momma does, too."

"Are you going to be with Momma while we're at school?"

"Yes."

She gets out from under the covers and kneels in front of me on the bed. "Will you tell her that I miss her?" she asks before her arms go around my neck.

"I'll tell her," I whisper into her hair as I wrap my arms around her to return her hug.

I wait for her to break our embrace before I speak. "Now, let's get you tucked back into bed so that you can get some sleep."

I don't have a guitar here, so playing a song for her isn't possible. Therefore, I skip to kissing her forehead and whispering, "Sweet dreams…I love you." That's something that I usually do and say after I've played a song for her and she's either asleep or close to it.

I stand up and head out of their room. I'll go back in a few minutes to check to make sure that she's asleep.

I start down the steps, and my thoughts turn to the day that I've had: I watched my son make his grand entrance into the world. I etched the picture of my newborn son cradled in his mother's arms into my memory. I found out what the indescribable feeling is that a father feels when he gets to hold his child for the first time - and the icing on the cake has been the last few minutes with Abigail. The day may have been a little overwhelming, but it's been a great birthday.


	44. Chapter 44

**PART TWO **

**FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2007**

**MAC'S ROOM**

**OB WARD**

**0308**

**MAC'S POV**

A baby's soft cry, so soft that it's more like a whimper reaches my ears, and I wake with a start.

It was just a couple of minutes after midnight when a nurse came in to inform me that my blood pressure was down substantially from where it had been after I'd given birth. They were going to monitor it every hour now and use the 'old-fashioned way' so that I wouldn't have restricted arm movement, making it easier for me to care for my baby and, eight minutes later, I had a roommate – my son. However, I was told that my roommate would be leaving around 0600 when all the babies on the floor are taken back to the nursery while doctors make their rounds.

Having given birth only nine hours and thirty-one minutes ago, I'm moving slowly. 'Maybe I shouldn't have sent Harm home' is my thought as my son's cry gets louder and stronger.

As I move towards his bed, I'm glad that Harm was here when my blood pressure was still a major concern, but I'm also glad that he didn't protest too much to leaving when the IV was removed, signaling that the worst was over because, as I reach my son's bed, I know why I sent him home. I reach out and touch my baby's cheek.

"Momma sent Daddy home to rest so that I could have you all to myself for a little while. Once we get home, your grandparents and your brother and sisters will be around, and it'll be much harder for us to have time alone."

My son calms from my touch, but doesn't quiet down.

"You ate two hours and forty-two minutes ago, so I think it's safe to say that you're making sure that I understand your 'I'm hungry' cry before we leave the hospital."

I don't know why I'm talking to my son who can't answer, but in doing so, I find that he quiets down at the sound of my voice.

I slip one hand under his head and the other under his little bottom to lift him from his bed while thinking about the last couple of weeks of my pregnancy. I'd been questioning if I'd be a good mother. Would I hear him cry? Would I know what he needed when he cried? I was scared that, after all that I'd endured to conceive him, I'd find out that my 'maternal instinct' hadn't transferred with the egg and that, without it, I wouldn't be able to care for my son.

After we've settled into a comfortable position for both of us, I know that I'm right about him being hungry because he eagerly latches on and begins to suckle greedily.

"I think that I may have been worried for nothing. We've been roommates for three hours and we're doing okay so far, wouldn't you say?" I say to my son, who's too busy eating to even look in my direction.

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

My son has eaten well and is asleep in my arms. I should get up and put him back in his bed, but I simply don't want to let go of him. Though, in these last few hours my disbelief that he's really mine has begun to fade, I'm still in awe of this whole experience.

I find myself talking to my son again, this time in a whisper so as not to wake him.

"I should've stayed awake so your daddy and I could talk more about your name. We should be going home later today. We can't let you go home without a name now, can we?"

I raise my hand to brush a strand of his dark hair off his forehead. Instead of some of the soft fuzz that some babies have or bald babies that I've seen, our son has a head full of dark hair – like Harm's.

I'm studying the features of his small face as he sleeps.

"I think you look like your daddy," I whisper.

I have the perfect name for our son, but I have to wonder if I'll get Harm to agree with my choice.

**LIVING ROOM**

**BURNETT RESIDENCE**

**0600**

**HARM'S POV**

"Harm, Harm." The familiar voice starts to penetrate my brain. "Harm." This time, my name is followed by a push against my shoulder. "Harm, wake up."

I open my eyes and, the moment my mother sees that I'm coming around, she sits down on the coffee table and starts her interrogation.

"What are you doing here? When did you get in? Did something happen to Mac? Oh, God, the baby's okay, isn't he?" she questions at a rapid pace.

I sit up and, once my feet are on the floor, I look at my mother.

"You know, when you question someone, you're suppose to pause between questions to wait for an answer," I reply, gently scolding her.

"Don't get smart with me, Harmon Rabb! You tell me this instant what happened," she commands, completely out of patience with me.

"Relax, Mom. Mac and the baby are fine. Once they removed her IV last night, Mac snapped into Marine mode and wanted me to go home to get some sleep. I stopped by here to check on the kids. I was glad that I did when I found Abigail awake when I checked on the girls. After I got her tucked back in, I came downstairs, debating on whether or not I wanted to raid your refrigerator. I sat down here on your couch until I could make up my mind. I must have been more tired than I thought because, the next thing I remember, you were waking me."

"I was on my way to the kitchen to make breakfast while Frank woke the children when I saw you on the couch. You scared me to death. I thought that you must have come here because something had happened to Mac or the baby." She takes a deep breath. "Why don't you call the hospital and check on them while I start a pot of coffee? If all is well, you should stay and have breakfast with us before you go back to the hospital."

"I will if you'll let me help you with breakfast," I bargain.

"Deal," she says with a smile.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**OB WARD**

**0715**

I push the door of Mac's room open just a fraction of an inch. I'm glad to see that she's sleeping.

I step into the room to place the brown paper bag and bottle of juice that I have in my hand on the bed table in front of her.

Once I've placed her breakfast down, I take her hand in mine, but I'm immediately sorry. My contact with her has awakened her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I say apologetically.

"It's okay. I'm glad you're here. Did you get any sleep?"

"Yes. Did you get any?" I ask.

"An hour here ... thirty minutes there. I had a roommate from a little after midnight until an hour and ten minutes ago when they took him back to the nursery."

"Why did they take him back then? Was there a problem?"

"No problem. All the babies go back to the nursery in the morning so that the mothers can go to a mandatory class before discharge, and they keep them until after the doctors make their rounds around eight."

"I think that we've stumbled across the reason why the father's class is at eight - to get us out of the way."

"I believe you're right. Since you're early for class, we have a few minutes to talk. When the nurse came for him this morning, she brought in the form that needs to be filled out to have his birth certificate issued. I don't want him to leave the hospital without a name," she says with a sigh.

"Well, I'll look over the list while you eat your breakfast," I say, pointing to the brown paper bag on the table in front of her. "I brought a banana walnut muffin and some juice from that bakery you love near the old condo. I was going to bring you some coffee, but, when I called to check on you this morning, the nurse told me that, because of your battle with your blood pressure, she recommended that I bring you juice this morning instead."

She smiles at me as she reaches for the bag containing her muffin. I pick up the list of names off the same table as she pulls her muffin out of the bag. I'm looking over the list when she speaks.

"When I was holding him this morning, I thought of the perfect name."

I look up from the list with a questioning expression, but she isn't looking at my face. She's pinching off a piece of her muffin, so I verbalize my question.

"So, tell me. What is the perfect name for our son?"

"Neither name is on the list, but I want to name him after the two men who have influenced my life and who possess qualities that I admire and would want him to have as a man."

"So you want to name him after your Uncle Matt and ... " I pause to think about who the second person could be. " ... and your father. His name was Joseph, right?"

"Joseph, yes ... but I wasn't thinking about my father. He may have had his good points, though I didn't realize it until it was too late, but he was never the kind of man who I'd want my son to grow up to emulate. I was thinking of someone else."

I look at Mac with a raised eyebrow. "So who is this other man who's influenced you so much that you want to name our son after him?" I say with some trepidation as to who would've had such an impact on her life.

"You. You're the kind of man that I want our son to grow up to be like."

I shake my head, prepared to argue, but she launches a preemptive strike.

"Harm, you and my Uncle Matt have been the two men in my life who I could count on. My uncle's a good man. I know that he went too far when he stole the Declaration of Independence - you defended him, so you know his reasons ... and you, you're a man with so many good qualities … ones that made me not only admire and respect you, but fall in love with you."

"There's a reason why you're such a good lawyer. You give a hell of a closing argument," I say while shaking my index finger at her.

"So, what's the verdict? Is the name Harmon Matthew okay with you? We can call him Matthew, Matt for short, and that will avoid the 'little Harm' worry for everyone, and since the children will call my uncle Uncle Matt, there'll be no 'little Matt' either."

A rap on the door and our son's pediatrician entering stops me from responding to her question.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Rabb. I just came from seeing your son."

"How is he?" "How's he doing?" We both ask, starting and finishing a heartbeat apart.

"He's a healthy baby boy. I don't have any concerns. Do you have any questions?"

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment," Mac answers.

"Then he'll be ready for discharge at noon, but remember that you won't be able to leave the hospital with him until you've proven that you have a car seat. So, if you don't have one, go get one now. I'll want to see him in two weeks for a checkup to make sure that he's gaining weight on breast milk. I'll leave an appointment time for you in my discharge instructions. Have a great day and congratulations."

"Thank you, Doctor," we say as he turns to leave.

The doctor leaves the room, and I look at Mac with a raised eyebrow.

"It's time for me to head to class," I say before putting my lips to hers, and we share a kiss. After I break the kiss, I say, "Finish your muffin and juice ... and then start filling out Harmon Matthew's birth certificate."

"Are you sure that you're okay with it?" she asks as if she's a little afraid of my answer.

"Yes, anything to make you happy," I reply.

Her eyes tear up. "Thank you."

I give her lips another peck.

"I'll be back after class," I say before I have to force myself to leave.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**0835**

I've barely pushed open the door to Mac's room when I hear the sound of a baby's cry. I forcibly push the door open wide and enter the room to see that Mac isn't in bed. She's standing next to our son's hospital crib.

"Is he okay?" I ask.

"I just changed his diaper, and he wasn't very happy about that, but he's okay."

I release the breath that I'd been holding.

"How are you doing?" I say, moving closer to her.

She slips an arm around my waist. "I'm sore, I'm tired and I'm deliriously happy."

I slip my arm around her waist. "Well, I can make you feel even better."

"Harm, I just had a baby. I'm not up for that," she says teasingly.

"I wasn't talking about that!" I say, shaking my head. "I was talking about the conversation that I had with Abigail last night."

"You saw her last night?"

"After you kicked me out of your room, I was headed home, but I had this feeling that I should check on our other children, so I drove to Mom's instead. When I checked on the girls, Abigail was awake."

"Why was she up?"

"She was worried about you."

"I thought you said that you were going to make me feel better. Finding out that one of my girls couldn't sleep because she was worried about me isn't doing that."

"I had to give you the set up ... now for the good part. When I spoke to her, she wanted to know if 'Momma' was okay, and that's a quote."

"She called me momma?" Mac asks with a shocked expression.

"She did, and she told me to tell you that she missed you."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that you and the baby were fine and that you loved and missed her, too."

Mac's other arm comes around me and she rests her cheek against my chest. "I was afraid that having the baby would cause her to pull away from us, but it sounds as if it's going to be okay."

"I think so," I say as I wrap my arms gingerly around her. "She even gave me a hug before I tucked her back into bed."

"We have great kids," she says.

"Yes, we do," I say proudly.

She moves in closer to me. "I love our son, but I must say that being in your arms without my stomach in the way sure feels good."

"I'd have to agree with you on that, too," I say, looking over at our son who's starting to whimper.

"He's getting warmed up before he lets the whole floor know that he's hungry," she informs me.

"Well, then I guess that I should let go of you so that you can feed Matthew."

I kiss the top of her head before I let my arms fall back to my sides. "Why don't you go ahead and get comfortable? I'll hand him to you."

"Feeling more comfortable after class, Dad?"

"Yes," I say as I slip the palm of one hand under Matthew's head, preparing to lift him from his bed.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**1610 **

**MAC'S POV**

I know that my pacing is driving Harm crazy, but I can't seem to stop doing it. I walk from the head of the bed to the foot. I stop to admire my son perched in his carrier/car seat on the bed table, and then I pace back to the head of the bed before I do it all over again.

"I don't know what's taking so long," I say out loud, but without really addressing Harm as I make my way from the head of the bed down to the foot for the two hundredth time in the last hour. "When Dr. Wallace saw me this morning, she said that she wanted my blood pressure monitored for twelve full hours from a reading that was below the numbers that she'd seen in the last month of my pregnancy before she'd sign off on my discharge. She also said that such a reading had been recorded at three this morning, so the twelve hours was up an hour and ten minutes ago."

He stands, and it takes only one of his long strides for him to be in front of me and next to the bed table where our son is. "Mac," he says as he slips his arms around me. "Try to relax. I know that you want to go home, and the nurse that you grilled when she came in here ten minutes ago said that you were slated for release this afternoon, but that your paperwork hadn't come through yet."

I look up at him. "I wanted to be home before our other children got home from school."

"I talked to Mom and Frank at breakfast this morning. They planned to pick up the kids from Sofia and take them shopping and out to dinner. If you were home, they thought that you could use the time to get some rest, and if you weren't home yet, they'd know that they had the kids for another night."

"I hope that you told your mother not to buy them anything. She spoils them."

"I didn't tell her not to buy them anything, but I did tell her that she was limited to purchasing only the Halloween costumes, which was the purpose for her taking them shopping."

"Oh no! I forgot to get them their costumes. I remember getting the letter from school about the Halloween parade through the school for those in costume, but I never got their costumes. A good mother doesn't forget that her kids need costumes," I wail.

Harm starts to rub his hand up and down my back to comfort me before he speaks.

"Mac, following doctor's orders and resting so that we'd have a healthy baby instead of taking our other children to get costumes doesn't make you a bad mother. It makes you a mother with a lot on her plate. I could've taken them, but there's nothing wrong with their grandparents taking them. The children get to spend time with their grandparents, my parents get to spoil them, and you get some time to rest. It's a win/win situation.

'A good mother would've found a way to do both. I went to the pumpkin farm. After Sami and I took a nap that day, I could've had Harm take us out to buy costumes.' That's what I'm thinking while encompassed in his arms. I know that he made a good point, but I don't feel better about not making sure that they had their costumes.

When Matthew starts to fuss, I step out of Harm's embrace and take my son out of his carrier. I know that, in my mother's class this morning, they said that you shouldn't pick up your baby every time he starts to fuss, but I just can't let him cry, not yet anyway.

I sit on the edge of the hospital bed with Matthew cradled in my arms, and he quiets.

Harm and I are staring at him when we hear Trish's voice.

"Sorry to interrupt."

We look up to see Trish entering my room.

"When we picked up Tyler, he said that his stomach hurt, but he doesn't have a fever. I think that he has an upset stomach because he's worried about his momma." Trish is now eyeing the baby in my arms as she continues to talk. "With Abigail not being able to sleep last night and Ty's upset stomach today, we thought that it might be best to bring them by to see you before we took them for another night."

"Where are the kids, Mom?" Harm asks.

She pulls her gaze from Matt to look at him.

"I came up to make sure that Mac was still here, and then, if I didn't come right back down, Frank said that he'd bring them up with him," she explains.

"I'm still here, though I hope not for long. I'm waiting on my discharge papers to come through so that I can go home," I tell her in an exasperated tone.

I see that Trish's gaze has once again fallen on her newest grandson.

"Would you like to hold him?" I ask Trish, though I'm sure that I already know the answer.

"Of course I want to hold my grandson," Trish gushes as she reaches for Matthew.

Trish has just settled Matthew into her arms when the firecracker known as Sami bounces into the room ahead of Abigail and Ty, followed by a tired looking Frank.

"Mommy's dressed...coming home with us now?" Sami asks excitedly.

"Not just yet, but I should be able to go home very soon."

I bend down with the intention of picking up Sami, who started to pout at the news that I can't go home with them right now, but a twinge of soreness reminds me that it isn't a good idea, so I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Momma."

I look up at Abigail and Tyler. It's hard to know in what order to greet them because Harm said that Abigail called me momma last night, and Trish thinks that Ty's stomachache has to do with him worrying about me. Abigail makes the decision for me by stepping up behind Sami.

"I missed you, too," Abigail says as I release Sami before embracing her.

"I missed you," I reply while giving her a hug.

When Abigail and I end our hug, Tyler hasn't stepped forward, and I'm concerned. If his stomachache was caused by worry, I'd think that he'd be feeling better, but he doesn't seem any better. He's been just standing next to Frank, holding his hand.

Once I've released my hold on Abigail, I move towards Ty and bend down to speak with him.

"Ty, Grandma says that you have a stomachache. Are you feeling any better now?" I ask him, reaching out to smooth back his hair.

"A little," he says softly.

"Then can I get a hug from you, too?" I ask.

He lets go of Frank's hand, but the hug that I get is lackluster, not the kind of hug that I'd normally get from Ty. The thought that maybe he isn't feeling better because I'm still in the hospital crosses my mind, and that keeps me from worrying about him just yet.

"How long did it take before my wife wrestled our grandson out of your hands?" Frank asks when I stand up straight and we make eye contact.

"Oh, I'd say that it was at least a minute or two," Harm answers with a grin.

Frank chuckles as he says, "Well, I'm glad to hear that she used some restraint. Dear, why don't you give him back to Mac so that she can introduce him to his brother and sisters?" Frank suggests.

"Oh, yes, of course, that's a good idea," Trish agrees.

"Let me sit in the chair with him so that he'll be on their level to see him," I suggest.

"While Momma gets situated with the baby, you all have to wash your hands. I know that you're going to want to touch him, and you can't touch the baby unless your hands are clean. Lucky for you, there's a sink in the bathroom right over there," Harm says, pointing to the corner of the room. "Let's go. I'm right behind you."

A few minutes later, I'm sitting in the chair, and Trish and Frank are standing behind me, looking down at Matt when the children and Harm come out of the bathroom.

"They've all passed inspection," Harm says as they move closer.

The children gather around the chair that I'm sitting in while holding their brother.

"Everyone, I'd like for you to meet your brother, Harmon Matthew Rabb, but we're going to call him Matthew or Matt for short."

"Oh, I'm so happy that he's going to carry on the name Harmon. I wanted to suggest that, but I didn't want to influence your decision," Trish says with tears in her eyes. Is the name Matthew in honor of your Uncle Matt?" she asks me.

"Yes, he's named in honor of the two men who mean the most to me," I explain as I look lovingly at my miracle ... my newborn son.

We let silence fall over the room as everyone observes the baby.

Sami is the first one to reach out to touch him, though touch may be the wrong word. It was more like a soft poke of his arm. I guess she wanted to make sure that he wasn't a doll.

Tyler seems to be a little livelier and reaches out to stroke the part of Matt's arm that Sami poked.

Abigail doesn't show any signs of accepting the baby until Frank tells them that it's time to go. It's then that she kisses Matt on the forehead and says, "I'll see you at home, Matt."

**NURSERY**

**RABB HOME**

**2200**

I didn't get home from the hospital until 1745, but, tonight, I'll be sleeping in my own bed, and that alone is making me feel better.

I know that Trish was only trying to help by keeping the children another night, but I felt strongly that the children should sleep at home tonight, so, after they'd bought their costumes and had dinner, Harm's parents dropped the children off at the house.

After an hour at home, Ty seemed to be back to his usual self. I'm glad that I insisted that they come home.

Everyone else is in bed, but I needed to feed Matthew. Now that his belly is full, I'm rocking him in Grandma Rabb's rocking chair.

I look down on my son's face. He's almost asleep. I stand up and move to his crib to place him down.

He whimpers a little. "It's okay, Matthew," I say as I pat his little bottom. "Momma is just going into the next room to sleep in her bed with Daddy."

He settles down after just a few moments, and I leave the room to go get in bed to get a couple of hours of sleep before it's time to feed him again.


	45. Chapter 45

**PART THREE **

**HALLOWEEN**

**WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**HARM'S POV**

The morning had been going along pretty much like every other morning since we'd brought Matthew home, well, except for the first morning after the baby came home...or, as I like to call it, the day of chaos.

It might have been easier if the three older children had had to go to school, but it had been a Saturday.

It really hadn't been that bad, but I will say that trying to follow a routine when there's a newborn in the house can be stressful for everyone. Adding to being off our normal schedule, there were endless questions from the children. They asked about everything from why he eats so often to wanting to know the proper way to change a diaper.

This morning had gone well at first. Mac had fed the baby and joined us at the table for breakfast, something that has taken several days to manage because of the timing of his feedings.

After breakfast, the children were getting into their costumes for the 'parade' at school.

Ty wanted to be Spiderman, but instead of him wearing a mask all day, Mac had me pick up a face makeup kit from the costume store so that she could paint his face to give him the same look. She'd finished the red and was doing lines for the spider web when Abigail ran into the room. She couldn't find the shoes to go with her costume - a princess, of course. It had been a struggle for her to decide, but she'd finally settled on Snow White for this year. She'll undoubtedly select a different princess for next year.

After searching every possible nook and cranny of her room, I called my mom to see if she remembered where she'd put them when she'd helped put things away on Friday night. She couldn't remember, so Mac had to leave her face painting to try to help Abigail find a pair of shoes that would do for princess shoes.

Less than five minutes after I'd hung up from talking to my mother, she called back. "I don't remember taking the shoes out of the car, dear. We were in your minivan, so check in there to see if they ever made it out of the car."

A check of the minivan was fruitful, and the pretty princess shoes catastrophe was avoided - the shoes were in the car, and Mac could go back to making a spider web on Ty's face so that Spiderman wouldn't have to go with his face makeup only partially completed.

With Ty and Abigail ready to go, it was time for Mac to turn her attention to putting the finishing touches on Sami's costume. She'd wanted to be a ladybug, but there hadn't been any at the store. With only five days until Halloween, my mom had told Sami that she didn't have enough time to make her a costume, but if she wanted to be ladybug next year, she'd make her costume if they couldn't find one. However, she'd have to pick something else that she wanted to be this year.

Sami had emerged from the children's bathroom, the temporary makeup room, with her face painted in camouflage colors. "Daddy, I a Marine like Mommy," she announced proudly.

I'm glad that Matthew slept through the Halloween rush this morning before waking and being ready to eat again.

I think that Mac and I will have to try to get in a nap after he eats. It's going to be a long day. We still have Jack-o-lanterns to carve and trick or treating left to get through today.

I go to the nursery, but I don't see Mac. I pad lightly into the room to check to see if Matthew's in his crib. He's there and sleeping.

I'm not sure where to start, but I figure that I was in the living room a minute ago, so she'd had to come by me to get to the kitchen. The den doesn't sound like a logical choice since she hasn't worked in a couple of weeks. I think that I'll check our bedroom. Maybe she started napping without me.

I enter the bedroom and hear cussing coming from inside the closet. I'm not sure what she could be upset about in there, but I try never to go into a hostile environment without assessing the situation, so I pad lightly towards the closet and peek around the corner of the doorway.

I can't believe my eyes. Mac is standing in front of the full length mirror in her uniform, and judging from the two-inch or so gap between the two halves of the zipper, I'm guessing that it's one of her pre-pregnancy uniforms.

I step back carefully, walk back towards the door a couple of strides and then turn to make it sound like I've just come in. "Hey, Mac you in here?"

"You know I am. I saw you in the mirror when you peeked in here."

I don't deny it. There's no point.

I wait until I reach the closet doorway to speak, "What are you doing in here?"

"My retirement ceremony is in four weeks, but I'm too fat for my uniform. I spent twenty years in the Corps and only nine months pregnant, but I'm going to have to wear that ugly damned maternity uniform to my retirement ceremony," she says irately.

I'm thankful that she's angry. I find angry Marines easier to reason with than crying ones.

"You gained only twenty-two pounds, and Matthew was almost eight pounds of that. One of the chapters of a book that I read said that your body would actually change structurally. You know, you'd get wider at the hips in order to carry and deliver the baby, but that it happens gradually over the nine months, so it's going to take more than a few days for everything to go back to the way it was before."

"When you came in here, were you looking for me?" she asks tight-jawed.

Apparently, hearing why her clothes might not fit wasn't what she wanted to hear, but I didn't want her to think that she was fat. I'd thought that I was being helpful. I'm not sure now that I should ask if she wants to take a nap with me, but I think that we both need one, so I forge ahead.

"I came to find out if you'd like to take a nap with me."

"A nap might be nice. Go climb into bed. I'll be there in a minute."

I turn to head to the bed, but I'm unsettled by the fact that Mac has sent me on alone. I hope that it's because she's currently annoyed and not that she doesn't want to undress in front of me.

**MINUTES LATER**

Mac climbs into bed, but she doesn't scoot in next to me. In fact, she's on her side facing away from me.

"Mac?"

"What's the matter, Harm? Is my wide load taking up too much room?"

Now she sounds hurt. I like angry better than hurt. I don't know if I should open my mouth. I haven't pushed her buttons like this in years.

I put my hand on her hip. "You aren't big or fat. I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, what did you mean?" she asks, still irritated.

"I was just trying to explain that I think that you're being too hard on yourself. You shouldn't expect to be back in your pre-pregnancy clothes yet. I mean, it took you nine months to put on the weight, so it's going to take more than a few days to lose it. Besides, as you pointed out, your retirement ceremony is still a month away. I'll bet that you're down to your pre-pregnancy size by then. If you aren't, you won't have to wear a maternity uniform...you can buy a regular uniform in a larger size and have it tailored for a smart, fitted look. "

"Go to sleep, Harm." This time, the hurt has been replaced with tears.

"Oh, Mac..." I scoot closer to her "...roll over here."

She obliges, and I wrap my arms around her.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm just saying all the wrong things. Does it help that I love you?"

"It helps ... and so will a nap," she says before administering a kiss to my cheek that would be considered affectionate - if she were my sister.

She's settled in against me with her head on my shoulder. So, though I'm not quite sure what just happened, I can take comfort in the fact that she didn't roll away from me.

**1145**

The sound of a crying baby coming through the baby monitor on Mac's bedside table wakes me.

The weight that was against me when I drifted off to sleep is gone, so I'm pretty sure that I don't have to get up in a hurry. Mac must be already on her way to the nursery.

Before I get my eyes open, my suspicions are confirmed when, through the baby monitor, I hear Mac's voice. "Matthew, Momma's here."

She must have picked him up because, though he's still fussing, his cries are softer. "Should we check your diaper or feed you first?" she asks him.

In the days since we've had him home, I've learned that parents who talk to their infants aren't crazy. They've just discovered the same thing that we have in the last five days. The sound of the voices that are familiar from the womb offer comfort to an unhappy baby.

I find the energy to get out of bed and head for the nursery, but I don't find them in there.

**LIVING ROOM**

I was headed to the kitchen for a glass of juice, but I find Mac sitting on the couch feeding Matt, so I stop and take a seat next to them.

"The rocking chair is good for getting him to sleep, but it isn't the most comfortable place for me to nurse him," she explains.

"Wherever you're comfortable is okay with me."

I see my son's little hand and reach for it. The fact that his arm is only a little longer than my finger is just one of the many things about him that fascinates me.

"You don't mind that I touch him while he's nursing, do you?" I ask, having just realized that she could take my action as an invasion of her time with him.

"No, I don't mind. In fact, I think my favorite feeding time was on Sunday morning before our other kids got up. You got up when you heard Matt start to whimper. You changed him and brought him into our bedroom for me to feed him. You sat behind me and wrapped your arms around me with your hands helping me to support him. It was a perfect moment...and my favorite baby memory so far."

"It was one of those rare occasions when time seemed to stand still and we were living in the moment without any other distractions."

"I hope that we get to have other times like that ... and not just with Matthew, but as a family," she says with tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'd like that, too," I say before kissing her on the cheek.

This moment in time comes to a noisy end when we hear the front door open and a boisterous Samantha fills the house with cheerful glee. "Mommy, Daddy, I home now," she shouts.

"I've got that one," I say before standing up to head for the doorway to catch Sami as Mac slips Matt's blanket over her shoulder, draping it over his face and her breast.

**KITCHEN**

**SEVEN MINUTES LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

I enter the kitchen. "What are you two doing in here?"

"Making you lunch," Sami answers.

"That's very nice of you. What am I having?"

"Peanut butter and jelly san'wich, apple slices and milk ... so you don't run out," Sami replies.

The latter part of Sami's answer reminds me of Saturday morning when she came in the nursery to say good morning to the baby. Since it had been so close to their bed times when their grandparents had dropped them off on Friday evening, we hadn't had a discussion about what breast-feeding entailed. I'd tried to explain the facts to her in a way that a three-year-old would understand, and she'd announced to the family at breakfast that I needed to drink milk because I was storing it in my breasts so that I could feed Matthew - close enough.

After Sami had gone to bed and before the two older ones had, I'd had Abigail sit with me while I nursed Matthew and explained it a little better to her while Harm explained the concept to Tyler, who said that he thought that it sounded 'kind of weird.'

"I'll bet that you can't guess who picked the menu," I hear Harm say, bringing me back to the present.

"I don't know ... could it have been our little ladybug, Sami?"

"Me not a ladybug today. Me a Marine."

"Come on, Marines. Your lunches are ready," Harm says as he picks up Sami and puts her on a stool at the breakfast bar.

I sit down next to Sami, and Harm puts our lunch plates down in front of us. "Your milk will be coming right up."

I smile as Harm turns to get glasses and the milk.

"Mommy, you draw good. Will you draw a scary face on my pun'kin so my Jack-o-lantern is scariest?"

"Yes, after you've finished your lunch and taken your nap, I'll draw a scary face on your pumpkin."

"Thank you, Mommy," she says with a smile before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

**BACKYARD PATIO**

**1535**

When Sofia brought Tyler and Abigail home from school about ten minutes ago, Harm was already outside with Sami, removing the seeds and flesh from inside her pumpkin.

He didn't want to start too early, but he'd said, "Gutting a pumpkin is a time-consuming job and, if I'm going to have time to help get all three of them done as well as getting dinner in them and have time to take them trick or treating all before their bedtime, I need to get started."

I wonder as I move through the house to join them if Harm is regretting taking time off to be here with me and the baby. He's been doing a lot around here in the last five days.

I find that my perfect children are indeed real children and capable of jealousy when I hear what they're talking about as I step out onto the patio with the baby monitor in my hand.

"My pun'kin is scarier than yours," Sami says to her sister and brother.

"That's because Momma drew it for you," Ty says with a sneer.

"We're trying to make our faces scary, but we don't draw as well," Abigail adds.

"I think that all the pumpkins will be scary, but different, and that's good. We don't want them to look alike," Harm says, trying to keep the pumpkin issue from growing into something bigger.

"Momma could help us if the baby wasn't here yet," Ty mutters under his breath.

He obviously didn't hear me come out of the house and doesn't know that I just heard what he said.

I've been feeling badly that I've dumped ninety-nine percent of the parenting on Harm since I came home from the hospital, but hearing Ty comment and knowing that he feels like I've been neglecting them hurts most of all.

I take in a deep breath to suck down the tears that are threatening to fall in the process before asking, "Does anyone want any help drawing or cutting from me?"

"Will you help Ty and me make a scary face on our pumpkins like you did on Sami's?" Abigail asks.

"Sure, but you'll have to help me," I say while taking a seat between them at the patio table that's currently doubling as the Rabb family carving station.

After placing the baby monitor on the table, it's time for me to ask the first question.

"First, I need to know a few things. For instance, what shape do you want the eyes to be?"

**DINING ROOM **

**1740**

**HARM'S POV**

We've sat down to dinner. If it wasn't for the baby monitor on the table in front of Mac to remind us, we might not remember that there's a newborn in the house.

"Who's going to go first tonight and tell us how school went today?" I ask.

All three children start at the same time, and then all three stop. It's Ty who then speaks up.

"We should go in the order that we go to bed. So, Sami's first." Ty says, taking charge of his younger sisters.

"Okay then, Sami, what did you do in school today?" I ask.

"We got to color pun'kins. We walked to show our costumes. A policeman came…he told us how to trick or treat safe. My teacher gave us one cookie. It was orange and decorated like a pun'kin 'cause we studied the number one and the color orange today," Sami explains.

"What did the kids in your class think of your costume?" Mac asks.

"Most of them liked it ... 'cept Adam. He said that girls can't be Marines. He said that his daddy told him so. I told him that his daddy didn't know nothin' 'cause girls can be Marines 'cause my mommy's a Marine."

"Sounds like Adam and his dad may need to meet your mommy to prove that, not only can girls be Marines if they want to be, but they can be pretty ones as well." I look at Mac and I see a slight blush on her cheeks.

**MAC'S POV**

I'll have to tell Harm that I think that it's a good thing that we didn't name our son Adam because, at the moment, I'm not real fond of him ... or his father, either.

"How about you, Abigail? How was your day?" I ask, keeping with Ty's suggestion that the children talk about their day in the same order as they go to bed.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2130**

I enter the bedroom, and Harm is in bed, but he isn't asleep.

"I'm glad that we took a nap or I might not have made it," he says jokingly.

"I think that the children had a good time today, don't you?" I ask as I untie my robe.

"Did you hear them over dinner? I think they had better than a good time. I think they had a great time. They got to parade around school and show off their costumes. They got cookies at school. When they got home from school, they ate a healthy snack and then got to carve pumpkins - the highlight of which I believe was that you joined us. Then, after dinner, their grandmother came over to answer the door for you, but she didn't come empty-handed. She dropped a five-dollar bill in each of their trick or treat bags. I took them trick or treating to the neighbors that either my parents or I know where they got candy, and when we got to my parents' place, Frank gave each one of them a couple of candy bars and a DVD that they'd apparently picked out when they'd gone shopping for their costumes, but since I'd told my mother that she couldn't buy them anything else, Frank bought the DVD to give to them tonight and, not to be out done by Grandma, he also gave each of them a ten-dollar bill. What isn't great for a kid about a day like that?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound like they had a great Halloween. I guess I was just worried about the girls -"

**HARM'S POV**

"- Because it's their first Halloween with us," I say, finishing her sentence for her.

"Yes," she says, slipping into bed. "You think you know everything, don't you?" She sounds a little annoyed, but not angry.

I give her a full blown 'flyboy' smile. "Not everything about everything, but I know you pretty well." I stop smiling and give her a sheepish look before making a confession, "In this case, I know because I worry about them having good memories about being with us from the beginning, too. Although I love all our children, for all that Abigail's been through in her six years of life, it's especially important to me that she has good memories to replace the bad ones."

"I've always known that your fighter jock persona was a cover for something. I wonder what your flying buddies would say if they found out that you've been covering up the fact that you're a big softie."

I use the raised eyebrow, warning look on her this time. "Now you wouldn't want to go and tell my little secret to anyone, because then I'd have to tell your Marine buddies that you're a real girlie girl with polished toe nails and a hundred pairs of shoes."

The next thing I know, I'm being whacked with a pillow, not hard and not once or twice, but three times as I complain, "No fair. You just had a baby. I can't defend myself."

It isn't that I really mind, because Mac's laughter says that she's happy, and keeping her happy is a vow that I made to myself the day that I put that ring on her finger.

When the pillow barrage stops, I lower my arms from their defensive position and lean towards her to kiss her.

After placing a gentle kiss on her lips, I say, "If you've finished your workout, are you ready to get some sleep before the little guy wakes up for another meal?"

"Yes, good night, Harm."

"Good night, Mac. I love you."

"I love you, too," she says before we snuggle up to each other for some much needed rest.

**NURSERY **

**2340**

**MAC'S POV**

Everyone else in the house is asleep, so, as I rock Matthew in the rocking chair that Harm's grandmother sent to us for the nursery, I'm alone with my thoughts.

I wanted to talk to Harm about how I'm feeling, but how can I explain it when it doesn't make any sense?

Harm brought Matthew and me home late Friday afternoon, and all was well, but sometime in the craziness of Saturday, I started to feel that I'd gotten in over my head by adopting three children and then having a baby.

On Sunday, I watched Harm for signs that he was feeling the same way, but I saw nothing that said that he was feeling anything more than the joy of fatherhood and love for his family.

"Your father was definitely the right man to be your daddy. He loves his children very much," I say softly to Matt.

There I go again, talking to the baby. Maybe I'm just going crazy. Maybe that's the logical explanation for how I'm feeling.

Though I think that I may have bitten off more than I can chew, I wouldn't want to give any of them back. I love all my children.

Monday afternoon, Harm started to shows signs of fatigue, but nothing more. It must be just me.

Maybe there's a reason why God made it so difficult for me to get pregnant. He knew that I wasn't cut out for nurturing a child from birth.

Fear takes control of me - 'What if I'm not doing it right? What if I do something that hurts him?' - and I get up to put Matthew in his crib.

Harm would never forgive me. I couldn't live with myself if I caused him any pain.

The fear clutches at my throat until I can no longer breathe, and I turn to flee the room, running into a hard object that causes me to lose my balance and jars my body enough that I feel the impact in the form of several shooting pains.

Though I lost my balance, I don't fall. Harm's arms come around me to steady me.

"You had to feel that. Are you okay?" he asks.

"I can't say that I didn't feel it, but I'm okay."

"Where were you going in such a hurry?" he asks.

"I was..." I start out slowly, giving my mind time to think of something to say other than 'anywhere except here'. "...just going to come back to bed."

There, that sounded believable ... I think.

I hope that he can't detect the tears in my voice that I was about to shed when I literally ran into him.

I thought that, after I had the baby, all the crying would stop.

"I'm not sure that I just got the whole story, but I surely like the sound of you being in a hurry to get back to me in our bed," he says in a sincere tone, not the suggestive one that he'd normally use with a line like that.

"You still feel that way after living through the past few days with us?" I ask, tilting my head towards the crib to indicate the other half of the 'us' to whom I'm referring in my question.

"Oh, yeah, I'd take the sleeping in two to three hour segments and crying in the middle of the night any time to be this happy."

"You're happy?" I say as a question.

"I hate to quote a Marine, but I'm deliriously happy," he says with a bright smile that only Harm could muster at this time of night with little or no sleep.

I put my forehead against his chest, wondering what happened to that sense of happiness and euphoria that I can remember feeling just a few days ago.

I feel his hand rubbing my back as he'd soothe one of our children.

Silence fills the room for several moments as we stand there in an embrace while he continues to rub my back.

Perhaps he's used the time to think because, when he speaks again, it seems like he's put a lot of thought into his words."

"I know that things haven't been getting done in the normal, scheduled way. I know that it seems odd that the smallest one in the family is setting the schedule right now, but it won't always be that way. We've brought other children home, but Matthew is the first baby that we've brought into the family. He's been home for only five days, and it's going to take us a little time to adjust to his feeding schedule - that we can't control - and balance that with the needs of our other children. So even though it's a little overwhelming at the moment, we'll get the hang of it."

I lift my head. "Yeah, just look at how well things went today versus Saturday, which was his first day at home," I offer.

"Exactly ... we're already getting better ... and, like it or not, the little guy has thrown a little chaos into your life of good order and discipline, Marine, and that, along with sleep deprivation and your body being a milk factory, it's got to be taking a toll on your system. I'm surprised that you haven't had some kind of sensory overload, complete with a sign on your forehead flashing 'overwhelmed'."

Maybe he's right. I'm just overwhelmed by all of the changes that an infant can make in a family.

I think that I'll just let it be my little secret that, when I ran into him, I was probably about ten seconds away from the meltdown that he was describing.

"Hey, Sailor, how about we go get our next round of sleep?"

"Sounds like a winner."

We exit the room and take a couple of steps down the hall when I decide to ask him, indirectly of course, if he sensed that I needed him.

"Why were you coming into the nursery?"

"Does a guy have to have a reason to go into his son's nursery?"

He's answered me with a question. That's a patented Harmon Rabb evasive maneuver. I'll have to ask it differently.

"Were you looking for me? You know, to ask me something or perhaps tell me something?"

"No."

We enter our bedroom, and I know that, even though he gave a one word answer, he was telling the truth, which means that it was some type of divine intervention or fate that he was entering the nursery at that exact moment, but if he wasn't coming in to see me, why was he going in there?

It takes me about as long to decide that I want to pursue a more direct line of questioning as it takes me to put down the baby monitor on my night table and get into bed next to him.

"Since I wasn't in bed and the baby monitor was gone, you probably assumed that I was with the baby. So why would you want to go into the nursery in the middle of the night when you knew that I was already in there with him?"

"I didn't want to assume that that's where you were."

Okay, now he's being a lawyer.

"That's very objective of you counselor, but now you can give me a straight answer. Why did you come into the nursery if you weren't looking for me?"

"I just wanted to see him. I just wanted to know that he was okay," he replies, sounding defeated.

"Oh," is my initial response followed by, "Why didn't you just say that? He _is_ your son. You can go in to see him anytime." The words tumble out of my mouth, and even I hear the defensive tone in them.

What is_ my _problem? I almost have a meltdown in the nursery and then, when he tries to make me feel better, I question him until he sounds defeated and I ... I must be going crazy. That's the only logical explanation.

I feel his arm come around me and I snuggle into his warmth.

"Let's get some sleep," he says with a sigh.

I don't say anything, but I snuggle up to him a little closer. I close my eyes, but my mind is still actively trying to figure out why I'm so ... unsettled. Why am I not enjoying this time with my baby?

Now, after hearing what Harm had to say, I also need to figure out why I've taken on all of Matthew's care since we brought him home.

I need to let go a little and let Harm have some time to hold and bond with his son.

With all the books that we read and with all the preparations that we made, who would have thought that we wouldn't be ready for the changes that Matthew has brought into our lives in the last few days?

As my body defies my mind's orders to stay awake, I've reached only one conclusion about the way that I'm feeling.

Overwhelmed is a better word for it than crazy.


	46. Chapter 46

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - SHADES OF BLUE

**PART ONE **

**FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**0530**

**HARM'S POV**

I wake up in an empty bed again. I'm not jealous the way that I've heard that some men are when their wives have had a baby.

I'm not jealous that Mac is paying attention to Matthew and not to me. I'm jealous of the fact that she has him all the time. I took leave to be here for her, but I also took leave to spend time with my new son.

It isn't just jealousy that I'm feeling either. I'm worried about Mac. I don't think that she's had more than ten hours of sleep since we brought him home a week ago, and most of that ten was the Friday night into Saturday morning that first night home. Her body was just too tired to keep going at the pace that she'd set. I know that, if she continues to keep up this pace, she's going to crash. I just hope that it happens while I'm still on leave.

No, Rabb, you aren't going to wait around and watch her crash. That's the way you used to do things when it came to her. Now, you're married and you need to talk to her about what you're seeing and tell her that you don't like it. She needs some sleep, and you want some time with your son.

Yeah, that's what you need to do, but how are you going to convince her that you just want to help with Matthew and not take over her job ... not that you _could_ take it over completely. You aren't built for breast-feeding, thank God.

**NURSERY**

**0535**

I get out of bed and head to the nursery to confront Mac before I have a chance to think it over and change my mind.

I enter the nursery with purpose, but I stop short just behind the rocking chair when I hear the tears in her voice as she talks to Matthew.

"Since your only concerns right now are eating, sleeping and a clean diaper, you'd think that I could handle it, but I'm not doing a very good job, am I? I'm tired and my boobs are sore. I'm not a very good momma, am I?"

I turn and leave the nursery, hopefully undetected.

I head back to our bedroom to mull over this new information. It changes things.

If she doubts her mothering skills, she may see my wanting to step in as a message that I don't think that she's doing a good job, but that certainly isn't the case. I just want to help her and bond with my son in the process, but now, how do I do it in a way that doesn't sound like I think that she can't handle the job?

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**0540**

Mac enters our room with Matthew on her shoulder, gently patting his back. She must be trying to burp him. Now, she's rubbing his back as if she's trying to get him to sleep.

I can see that she's wiped away her tears, but the puffiness of her eyes gives her away. She's definitely been crying.

"Do you want me to burp him? That's what you're doing, right?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes, that's what I'm doing, but I've got him. I came in here to see why you came in the nursery," she says impatiently.

"I just wanted to know if you needed me to do anything before I went for my bike ride," I calmly explain.

"I thought you ran at 0530 on Thursdays. It's 0540," she says, a hint of anger in her tone.

"I do. Your time is right on, but you're off a day. Today is Friday, Mac," I say with a sigh.

"Oh, then I'd better check the refrigerator. I might have a few things that I want you to pick up at the grocery store tomorrow for Peggy's visit on Sunday afternoon. She's coming over to meet Matthew. I thought that I'd serve just tea and cookies...or do you think that I should serve something heavier, maybe finger sandwiches?" she says uncertainly.

"I don't know. What time is she coming over?" I inquire.

"Two o'clock," she responds.

"I think tea and cookies are fine for a fourteen hundred thing, but I can ask my mother to be sure. That's really more her cup of tea," I say with a smile.

"Funny, Harm, very funny." She looks irritated.

"You're even too tired to laugh at one of my puns. This is serious. Mac, why don't I skip my bike ride so we can curl up in bed and go back to sleep? Look, I'm still dressed for bed..." I use a wave of my hand down my body to point out the fact that I'm still in my pajama pants. "...and I'll get up with Matthew the next time so that you can sleep more than a couple of hours this time."

"No, Harm, I don't want Matthew to ruin your workout schedule. The kids will want you to make their breakfast before Sofia gets here to take them to school, so you'd better get moving." She turns to leave the room, but stops and turns back around. "After the children leave for school, we need to talk about Sofia, too," she says somewhat angrily.

"What about her?" I say, but I'm wondering how I messed up this opportunity to get her to rest.

"She's just a chauffeur for the kids back and forth to school now. You could be doing that while you're on leave, and by the time you go back to work, I'll be able to take them back and forth to school," she explains, glaring at me like it's the only logical thing to do.

"I thought that we'd agreed to have her stay on with us until your retirement was official," I remind her.

"I know, but now that I'm home full-time, I don't think that we need her. I think that she's just a waste of money. I'd rather use the money that we'd save by letting her go now and extend the house cleaning service for a month or two that you gave me as a gift, whatever her salary would cover," she says, trying to convince me that she's right.

"But you aren't home full-time permanently yet. You retire at the end of the month, but with four weeks of maternity leave, you'll probably be working the last week of the month. I'll be at work, so who'll take care of Matthew? Shouldn't we keep her until at least the first of December when you're officially retired?" I say, trying to explain my reasoning.

"As far as the week that I might have to work, I'll bet that I can get away with working half days, and I think that your mother would watch him for a few hours a day for that week, don't you?" she says, continuing to push her point.

"Yes, she'd keep him all day every day if we asked her. I would like to point out that, for either Sofia or my mother to care for him, you'll have to give up your exclusive rights to burp or hold him. You know that, right?" I retort, trying to control the anger that I feel building.

"Well, of course, I do, but I'm here now. Sometimes you're so hard to talk to, Harmon Rabb," she says in a tone that says that I've offended her.

Good job, Rabb. I know that I hadn't thought it through, but it sounded like I had a natural lead-in to expressing the fact that she's been the only one caring for him for the past week. I was hoping that it might prompt her to want to share him, but no luck. Maybe some other way to handle this will come to me while I'm out riding.

**SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2007**

**RABB HOME  
LIVING ROOM**

**1410**

**MAC'S POV**

Peggy arrived right on time at 1400, and I'd just brought in a tray of tea and cookies for us to snack on when the baby monitor came to life. I then excused myself to go get Matthew.

It was an interruption that I didn't mind. I can't wait to show off my handsome little guy to her after the way that she showed off her baby, DJ, to me. I know that I have a slight bias, but Matthew is a much better looking baby.

I enter the living room and take a seat on the couch before making introductions. "Peggy, I want you to meet Harmon Matthew Rabb."

"Mac, he's adorable," Peggy coos.

"Thank you. He's even more adorable when he isn't hungry."

"Do you need for me to go get him a bottle?" she asks sweetly.

"No, I'm breast-feeding, but you can pour our tea while I get him started," I reply.

Peggy pours the first cup of tea while I unbutton the top buttons of my shirt.

By the time Peggy has poured the second cup, I've got Matthew filling his tummy under a light blanket draped over my shoulder. I'm getting pretty good about nursing Matthew discreetly. It keeps the questions from the children down to a minimum.

"I'm surprised that your house is so quiet. Where is everyone?" Peggy asks as she lifts her cup of tea.

"After Sami got up from her nap, Harm took them to the park to feed the ducks. After the park, they're headed to the home improvement store. Harm and Ty want to build a dollhouse for Abigail as a Christmas present, so he's going to pick up a few things to at least get them started on the project or it isn't going to be done by Christmas," I explain.

"But Abigail is with them. Is he going to tell her that he's building a dollhouse?" she says, slightly confused.

"No. He's getting several things for finishing up the guesthouse that he's been working on since we moved in, too, so if she...or, more likely, Sami asks, he'll tell them that he's buying most of the stuff for that, and that if they have some leftover wood, he and Ty might build something out of it. They won't be gone too long. We didn't go to Harm's mother's for dinner last Sunday because I wasn't feeling up to it and the baby was only a few days old. So, today, she's coming here with dinner. It's sort of a belated birthday dinner for Harm and a chance for her to see Matthew without he and I having to leave the house just yet," I explain.

"I know that she was at that art camp where I met the girls, but I didn't have a chance to meet Harm's mother. What's she like? Is she uptight like Harm or is she the opposite?" she asks.

I don't think that I like the way that she referred to Harm as being 'uptight,' but I'm tired. Perhaps I'm being too sensitive.

"She's a nice woman. She isn't uptight. She's like you, a socialite. She sponsored that art camp. She owns an art gallery here in La Jolla. The next big show is in a few weeks - the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Would you like to go? I'll introduce you to her," I offer.

"It's been years since I attended an art gallery showing. I'd really like that. You said that you'd introduce us. Does that mean that you're going?" Peggy asks.

"Yes, I plan to," I respond.

"What about Matthew?" Peggy asks.

"Harm wants to have Sofia watch him, but I don't know about that. Maybe by then I'll want a break, but, right now, I can't see leaving him with anyone. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," I say with a sigh.

"When does Harm have to go back to work?" Peggy asks.

"A week from tomorrow," I explain.

"Dan took off work from the day that we brought DJ home from the hospital until his two-week checkup. I guess that Harm's doing the same thing," she says.

"Yes, I can't believe that Matthew is already ten days old. How is DJ doing?" I inquire.

"His six weeks' checkup is on Tuesday, but I don't need for the doctor to tell me that he's doing well... gaining weight and growing, all the things that babies are suppose to do," she says proudly.

While we've been talking, I've managed to nurse Matthew, burp him and lay out his blanket on the couch next to me. I watch Peggy eyeing him as I put my sleeping son down on his blanket so that I can keep an eye on him while Peggy and I finish our visit.

"I'm surprised that you didn't bring DJ with you," I state to Peggy.

"Dan wants to spend every minute that he can with DJ on the weekends. He says that it gives him time with his son, and I can have time to go see friends or get my hair done - that sort of thing."

Peggy sounds sad and still has her eyes fixed on Matthew. I'm not sure that she likes the arrangement of Dan taking care of DJ every weekend.

"How is Dan?" I ask.

"Okay," she answers.

"Jenny?"

"Fine."

I sense that something isn't right with her, but I don't want to pry, so I direct the conversation back to art.

"You said that you haven't been to a gallery show in years. When was the last time that you went to one?" I inquire.

"I don't want to think about how long ago that was. Let's just say that it was before I met Dan and leave it at that. I was interested in this guy who was an artist. I went to his show and oohed and aahed at all his work, and we started dating. We dated for almost a year," she explains.

"Why did you break up?" I ask.

"He was a self-proclaimed 'mood artist'. When he was in a good mood, he'd paint with bright, cheerful colors like fire engine red and azure blue. When he was in a mellow mood, he'd use a mixture of muted and light colors. I remember one painting that he did in a creamy yellow and sky blue. I loved that painting. When he was down, he painted in dark, gloomy colors, mostly gray and black." She laughs. "He may have been a brilliant artist, but he was a lousy boyfriend. He'd be bawling like a baby one minute and skipping happily off to the art supply store the next. I ended it because I couldn't take the mood swings any more. Enough about my past...let me eat that chocolate cookie while you tell me about having four children under one roof. How are the other children handling having a baby in the house?" she asks, deliberately changing the subject.

**RABB HOME**

**KITCHEN**

**1610**

**HARM'S POV**

"Hi, Mom, are you in here alone?" I say as I watch her close the oven door.

She spins around. "Hello, darling. Yes, I'm alone. Did you come back by yourself?" she asks curiously, since none of the children have followed me in here.

"No, but the kids saw Grandpa in the living room and dumped me. I thought that Mac might be in here with you."

"No, I haven't seen her, but we've been here for only five or ten minutes. We knocked, but didn't get an answer, so we used our key to let ourselves in so that, if Mac and the baby were sleeping, we wouldn't wake them. I didn't want to try to transport your vegetarian lasagna hot, so I put it together at home, but I wanted to bake it in your oven," Mom explains.

"I hope that she's asleep. She could use the rest." I pause to debate whether or not I want to ask my mother for some advice. I decide that I've been working on a way to talk to Mac for two days without success, so I need to gather information. "Mom, I know that it was a while back, but did you have any trouble sleeping after you had me?" I ask hesitantly.

"I wouldn't say that I had trouble sleeping, but I had trouble finding time to sleep," she says with a chuckle.

"Dad didn't help?" I ask with some confusion.

"Not that I can remember, but that was okay. You have to know that things were different when I had you. Back then, the norm was for the father to pace the waiting room and pass out cigars after he'd found out if he had a son or a daughter. Now, the norm is for the father to be present in the delivery room and hear the news first hand whether the baby is a boy or a girl. My mother came to be with me. She wanted to stay for six weeks, but it didn't last that long. She didn't approve of your father. She didn't think that a sailor, and a flyer to boot, was right for her daughter. Your father never gave her cause to think that. It was just her opinion based on the stories that she'd heard about servicemen. Anyway, your father walked around on eggshells, trying not to upset her, and it was causing me more stress than it was doing any good, so, after three weeks, I told her that I was fine and asked her to go home. She was upset, but she went. With the tension between your father and my mother gone, I settled into a routine, and the rest is history. Why do you ask?"

"Mac hasn't been sleeping. I was just wondering if I should be worried about her, but it sounds like it depends on whether she can't sleep or if she can't find the time to sleep," I explain.

"Exactly...and you know that I'd be happy to watch the baby anytime so that she can rest. I just remember what it was like when I had my mother underfoot and I wouldn't want to be in her way, but you know that I'm only a phone call away if you need me," she says understandingly.

"You may be sorry you said that. Mac was talking again this morning about letting the nanny go. When I mentioned that she might have to work the week before her retirement becomes official, she mentioned having you watch Matthew for us," I tell her.

My mother's lips spread in what I can only call a wide grin. "I'd say that, if the only way to get my grandson for the week is for you to let Sofia go, then my only question is, do you want me to tell Sofia or do you want to handle it yourself, dear?" she says with a laugh.

I shake my head. "You're something else, Mom. I'll talk to Mac about it and let you know if we'll need your nanny services." I pause. "Mom, there's something else that I need to ask you," I say, glancing down at the floor.

"Of course, dear, what is it?" she asks with concern in her voice.

"Mac doesn't seem to trust me with Matthew. The day after she came home, I got to change his diaper and take him to her for his feeding, but I think the only reason why I got to do that is because she was still sore and tired, and I was just a little faster getting out of bed that morning. What should I do?" I ask plaintively.

"I don't think that it's a matter of trust, dear. I think that it's more that she had to go through so much to have him that she doesn't want to let him go," my mother says, trying to console me.

"Isn't that the same thing as trust?" I ask, not understanding.

"No. Take your grandfather's plane, for instance. You put a lot of work into restoring it. It's like your baby. What would say if your friend, Jack Keeter, asked you if he could take her up for a solo flight? You've known him since your Academy days, and I'll bet that you trust him with your life. Now, would you let him take up your baby? If you wouldn't, is it because you don't trust him?" she asks.

"No, it's because I have part of myself invested in her and it would be hard to let someone else fly her. She's mine," I respond vehemently.

"Now you understand the difference," she replies, nodding her head.

"But after I'd thought it through, I'd let Keeter fly my plane because I trust him," I say, trying to defend my position.

"And she'll let you take care of Matthew when she has a chance to think it through, as well, dear. I know that you love him and I know that you love her, so give her some time to think it through. In the meantime, what's keeping you from stopping by the nursery and spending a little time with your son now if Mac is resting?" she inquires.

"I think I'll go check to see what Mac's doing," I say, thinking that maybe that's a good idea.

"Okay, dear. I'll let you know when dinner's ready," she says with a knowing smile.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**EIGHT MINUTES LATER **

**MAC'S POV**

I wake up to a sound. It isn't a cry, but a soft, peaceful sound...I guess that I'd call it cooing. I check my internal clock.

I've been asleep for only forty-five minutes. I feel better knowing that I haven't slept past a feeding.

I put Matthew down before I came in here to rest. He shouldn't be awake. I'm about to get up to go see what's going on when I hear a familiar voice coming through the baby monitor.

"Momma is finally getting some sleep, and your brother and sisters are with Grandpa, so that gives you and me some time to spend together," Harm says before I hear that little sound from Matthew again.

I don't think that it's a coo. It's more of a gurgle, I think.

"While we have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you something. Your momma loves you very much, and she doesn't want to share you just yet, but she'll let us have some time together soon. In the meantime, I wanted you to know that your daddy's here and that he loves you very much, too."

The tears flow freely down my face.

I hadn't realized it until I heard Harm say it, but I haven't let him be involved in Matthew's care. I was afraid that he wasn't going to want to hold our newborn son and I pushed him until he held him. Now, I won't let him. I remember Friday morning, and my tears turn to sobs. I didn't even let him burp him, even when he asked me to let him.

"I'm doing everything wrong," I sob into my pillow.

If I were a mood artist and going to paint right now, I'd need a very dark color, like midnight blue...almost black.

That's the way I feel, somewhere between being blue and entering a black hole of despair after realizing that, not only am I a bad mother, but a bad wife, too.


	47. Chapter 47

**PART TWO **

**TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME **

**0815**

**HARM'S POV**

On Sunday evening, Mac and I talked, and she convinced me that we should dismiss Sofia. Actually, I agreed because she won't let Sophia help with Matthew anyway. So, yesterday morning, I delivered the news to Sofia that her services would no longer be required.

When I called to inform the service through which we'd hired Sofia that her services were no longer needed, to my surprise, they said that a former employer had called on Friday to see if Sofia was available. When they'd been told no, they'd asked if the couple for whom she was working would be willing to release Sofia immediately so that she could take a position with them. I told them that I'd called to notify them that Sofia's services weren't needed any longer, and yesterday afternoon, they called back to tell us that they'd send someone to finish out the current week, but that Sofia was going to begin her new assignment today. As Mac had pointed out, I can shuttle the children to and from school this week, so I told the woman who called that no replacement would be necessary.

That's why I'm on my way to our bedroom now, to tell Mac that I'm about to take off again. This time, I'm headed off with Sami to preschool.

Mac is coming out of our bathroom as I'm entering our bedroom.

She's still sleep deprived, so I clear my throat just to get her attention before saying what I came in to tell her.

"It's about time for me to take Sami to preschool. Since I'm already going out, I thought I'd stop at the hobby shop to see if they have any dollhouses on display for some ideas. I need to pick out some windows. Ty and I got the first cuts done on Saturday, but we don't have the windows yet. It'll be easier to install the windows before we assemble the walls so that we have easy access to both sides. On Sunday, when Ty showed Frank the progress that we'd made, he suggested that it might be easier for us to put the flooring in before we secure the walls together, too. That way, I won't have to try to figure out a way to get my big hands in the little rooms to cut the flooring pieces," I explain.

"What's wrong with the wood that you're using to put it together as the flooring?" Mac asks, frowning.

"Because wood can splinter...if I cover it with tile or carpet, she won't get any splinters and she'll have a one-of-a-kind house," I reply.

I've reached her and I'm standing in front of her when she says to me, "Once you make up your mind about something, no one can say that you do it half way. Just remember that she's a little girl, Harm. She isn't going to notice the little details of your workmanship. She's going to see just a dollhouse," she says, not understanding the pride that I take in my work.

"Maybe, but I want it to be special," I respond, and I do want it to be special because it's for a special little girl.

"And it will be, but not because you obsess over every little detail. If it had no windows and leaned to one side, she'd still love it, and it would be special to her because her daddy made it for her," she replies, still not understanding my point of view.

"Maybe, but -" I start.

"You want it to be perfect. That's just who you are. I know," she says, beginning to sound a little miffed with me.

"That's because you have a little streak of perfectionism in you, too," I say, teasing her and trying to get her to lighten up a little.

"You'd better get your daughter to preschool," she says, ignoring my comment and dismissing me.

She isn't going to deny it, but she isn't going to confirm my statement either.

"I don't know how long what I want to do will take, so, to be on the safe side, don't expect me back until after I pick up Sami from school. Do you want something special for lunch? We could pick it up on our way home," I offer with a smile.

"I can't think of anything, but if you feel like stopping somewhere, surprise me," she says, but since she isn't eating much, she probably won't eat it anyway.

I slip my arms around her and give her a kiss.

"Then I'll see you in a few hours," I whisper in her ear before she pulls away.

She offers me a nod, so I turn and leave the room to get Sami so that I can take her to preschool.

**DR. WALLACE'S OFFICE**

**1000**

I felt odd sitting in an OB's waiting room without Mac, but it's a little easier for me to focus on what I want to say to Dr. Wallace now that I'm in her office waiting for her.

I'm worried about Mac and, this morning, I'd called to speak with Dr. Wallace after I'd dropped off Ty and Abigail. Dr. Wallace was busy with patients when I called, but I asked her receptionist if she had some time to meet with me for a few minutes later this morning.

I did go to the hobby shop to pick out some windows for the dollhouse, but this appointment was the reason why I knew that I wouldn't be back home until after I'd picked up Sami from preschool.

I'm sitting in one of the big leather chairs in front of Dr. Wallace's desk, thinking that Mac would be furious with me if she knew that I'd come here to talk to her doctor behind her back.

I'm thinking that I should leave.

I stand, but I'm too worried about Mac to leave her office, so I start to pace. I'm in the middle of forming the thoughts that I want to share with the doctor when she enters her office without the customary warning knock, so she surprises me a little.

"Hello, Harm. My nurse said that you had concerns about Sarah. I hope that I can help, but I have a pretty heavy patient load today, so I don't have much time. What exactly is concerning you about your wife?" Dr. Wallace asks.

"Since you're short on time, I'll get right to the point. I read that she might be a little moody after the baby was born because of a drop in her hormone levels, so the crying doesn't bother me so much as the fact that she's trying to hide it from me. Tell me that I'm overreacting," I say, hoping that she can ease my mind.

"Is she sleeping and eating okay?" she asks.

"No, but I don't know if it's related to having Matthew or not. It isn't unusual for her to eat and sleep sporadically when she has something on her mind, and she's got to have a lot on her mind right now. Matthew is just one part of it. We have three other children at home and one away at college. Thanksgiving is a few weeks away, and she's determined to cook this year because my mother has been doing all the holiday meals since we've been living here in California. She's also giving up her career at the end of the month to be a full-time mom. In addition to that, we're planning to go to Pennsylvania to my grandmother's farm for Christmas, and Christmas is a big deal this year because, not only is it Matthew's first Christmas, but it's the girls' first Christmas with us, too," I say, filling her in on what's going on in our lives.

"Wow, has she got ending world hunger and stopping terrorism on her schedule, too?" she asks, smiling.

"What?" I say distractedly.

"I'm sorry, Harm. I just think that you may have answered your own question. I'm tired after just listening to what's going on in her life. You add that to her hormone levels changing, and that alone could explain everything," she says, trying to explain why Mac might be acting the way she is.

"You aren't making me feel any better," I tell her with a frown.

"Do you want to feel better or do you want me to be honest?" she asks.

"Be honest," I say with a sigh.

"Is she withdrawing from the baby or the other children?" Dr. Wallace asks, probing for more information.

"No. She keeps the baby very close to her. We let the nanny go yesterday because she didn't have anything to do because Mac wouldn't let her help with the baby. Our daughter, Abigail, is fascinated with her little brother, so she sits with Mac and the baby as often as she can, and it doesn't seem to bother Mac to have her around. So I'd have to say that she's fine with the other children, too. She just doesn't seem happy. I haven't heard her laugh or seen her smile, except at Matthew, since she came home from the hospital. She seems ... I don't know what to call it ... depressed, I guess," I say, doing my best to explain.

"How's the communication between the two of you? Has she said anything to you about how she's feeling?"

"No, she's shutting me out, and that's what worries me the most," I reply, shaking my head.

"Have you asked her how she's feeling or told her that you're worried about her?"

"Not yet. I've been trying to figure out a way to bring it up without making her feel like I'm accusing her of not being a good mother or that I'm implying that she can't handle the changes in our lives," I say with a sigh.

"I want you to know that I'm glad that you came to see me. I think that you're right to be concerned and I'm glad that you're asking questions, but I want you to relax a little. What you've mentioned, the crying and irregular eating and sleeping patterns are pretty common in the weeks after delivery. Somewhere between fifty and seventy percent of woman experience some form of "baby blues," but it generally goes away within a couple of weeks. However, I want you to be aware that about one out of ten cases of the "baby blues" will develop into what we call postpartum depression. She hasn't talked about hurting herself or the baby, has she?" she asks, continuing to probe.

"No, of course not!" I reply adamantly.

"That's one of the red flags of postpartum depression or the more serious condition called postpartum psychosis, but don't panic. That last one is a lot rarer, happening to only about one in a thousand women. I'm going to give you some pamphlets about postpartum depression so that you're aware of the symptoms, but, at this point, I think that it's far more likely that she has just a case of the "baby blues," complicated by the other life changing things that are happening," she explains.

"Is there anything that I can do to help her?" I ask.

"Yes, reduce her stress if you can. If this Thanksgiving dinner is important to her, maybe you could have her mother come to visit. She'd be someone who'd understand how she's feeling and she might open up to her. Her mother could also help her with preparing the Thanksgiving meal. Another thing that perhaps you should rethink is planning a cross-country trip with four children right now. Last but not least, be there for her as much as she'll let you," she says, offering suggestions of how to help Mac.

"Thanks for seeing me. I appreciate it," I tell her sincerely.

I'm not about to tell her about Mac's mother leaving her, but I wonder who might be able to help Mac with what's going on after my leave is up. I don't think that she'd be comfortable if my mom came to help. They get along well now, and I want it to remain that way, but with Mac's moods now, I'm afraid that she might say something that would hurt Mom's feelings, especially if Mom wanted to help take care of Matthew so that Mac could get caught up on some sleep.

"I'll walk out with you so that I can give you those pamphlets that I mentioned. I want you to be aware of the warning signs, but I didn't hear anything in what you told me to make me believe that it's anything more than just the usual settling into life with a newborn at this point," Dr. Wallace says reassuringly.

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1220**

I'm sitting on Abigail's bed, watching Sami sleep. Actually, I'm hiding.

I feel better knowing that what Mac is going through seems to be normal, but I'm having a hard time not taking her by the arms and telling her that she's worrying me and that she needs to snap out of it. I know that won't work and will only cause her to distance herself farther from me, and that's the last thing that I want to do.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to see Mac standing in the doorway. When our eyes make contact, she motions with her hand for me to come to her. I stand and walk to the door.

"I don't want to wake her," she whispers to me before stepping down the hall a few steps away from the girls' room.

"I'd like to take a nice, long, hot bath. Do you mind listening for him?" Mac raises the baby monitor receiver. "He just ate about ten minutes ago, so you shouldn't need to do anything, but just in case he cries, will you...?" She trails off like she might be having second thoughts.

I want to snatch the monitor out of her hand before she changes her mind, but that wouldn't be a good thing for me to do, so I reach up slowly for the monitor. "No problem. Take your time," I say as I wrap my hand around the monitor and she releases it to me. "Have a great time." That sounded dumb. "I mean, enjoy your hot bath," I say with a smile.

"Thanks," she says softly before turning to go down the hall to our room, presumably to take her bath.

**KITCHEN **

**1250 **

**MAC'S POV**

I stop momentarily at the kitchen doorway to observe Harm bending over to put detergent into the dishwasher. I wait until he's shut the door and put the detergent back in the cabinet under the sink before stepping into the kitchen.

"I'm through in the bathroom if that load is ready to be run," I say quietly from just inside the room.

He nods in response and then pushes the button on the dishwasher to start the wash cycle.

"Did he give you any trouble?" I ask, pointing to the monitor on the kitchen counter above the dishwasher door.

"No, he didn't let out a peep the entire time that you were in the tub," he replies just as quietly.

"That's good," I say.

The look on his face breaks my heart.

I heard him with Matthew on Sunday night and I know that I need to let Harm help ... for his and for Matthew's sake.

I don't know how to explain to him how hard it was for me to turn over the monitor to him so that I could take a bath, how I had to fight with myself not to get out of the tub and go running to the nursery to check on him.

"It isn't that I don't think that you could have handled it if he did wake up," I try to explain.

He nods before reaching for the monitor and handing it back to me. "Did you enjoy your bath?" he asks like he doesn't know what else to say to me.

"I did. Thank you," I say shyly. I feel like we're almost strangers who are meeting for the first time.

Matthew should be giving us a lot to talk about, but, instead, it's brought this curtain of silence down between us. I want to talk to him about how I'm feeling, but I just can't do it.

I should be overjoyed with my life right now, but I'm just not. How do I explain that to him without him worrying that I've gone crazy, which might make him think that his children are in some sort of danger?

"I checked my email while you were taking your bath. I got one from Mattie," he says, breaking the silence.

"What did she have to say?" I ask, attempting to show some excitement.

"She said that the picture that I emailed her of Matthew, the one that I took right after we got him home is the background on her laptop, and that she uses her pictures of us and her siblings as her screen saver," he informs me with a tiny smile.

"Sounds like she misses us," I reply.

"Yeah, I think she does," he says sadly.

"Did she say anything else?" I ask, trying to dispel the tension in the air that's almost tangible.

"She said that the temperature has dropped there. The weathermen are predicting that they may have snow for Thanksgiving this year. She said that the weather here is something that she really misses," he says without much emotion.

"I know what she means. It's nice not to need more than a heavy sweater all year long, and I don't think that I've had even so much as the sniffles since I've been here, but I miss the change of seasons. Autumn is probably my favorite time of year. With the leaves changing colors, there's just so much color around compared to the rest of the year ... and with the chill in the air, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate so you don't drink it too fast because you want to use the heat of it to warm your hands, too, while you walk in the park is so peaceful. What's your favorite season?" I ask, trying to keep our conversation going.

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it. I'll have to think about it and get back to you," he says distractedly.

"Okay..." Harm seems distant to me. He's got something on his mind. I hope that Mattie's all right. "Did Mattie say anything else?" I ask, hoping to discover what's going on with him.

"Not really...the rest of the email was the usual. She asked how everyone was doing and said that she was doing fine. She said that Tom was doing okay and that she and Kevin were going to the movies on Friday. She said that she's going to have an extra long weekend for the Thanksgiving holiday since she doesn't have classes on Wednesday," he informs me.

"Do you think that it was a hint that she wants to come here for Thanksgiving?" I ask, trying to see if this is what might be bothering him.

"Well, I thought it might be that, but I needed to talk to you first. I didn't want to put any more on your plate than you already have," he says with a shrug.

"Harm, she's our daughter. If she needs to come home to see her family, you don't need to run it by me first. You just get her here!" I say adamantly.

"After I get back from picking up Ty and Abigail, I'll call her to make sure that she wants to come. If she does, then I'll make the arrangements," he says, but he doesn't sound as excited as I'd thought he'd be.

"Thank you," I reply with a small smile.

There's a cloud of something hanging in the room with us. There's more on his mind than Mattie. I don't know what's going on with him. He seemed fine this morning, but he's been acting a little 'off' since he came home with Sami.

"Harm, is there something else?" I ask hesitantly.

"No...yes, I want to talk to you about our Christmas trip," he says nervously.

"What about it? It's still two months away," I reply.

"Yeah, but I haven't booked the trip yet, and since it's one of the busiest travel times of the year, I've been wondering why I've been putting it off. After reading Mattie's email, I think that I've figured out the reason. I wanted to go so that my whole family could be together, but part of me knew that there were more important reasons to stay here."

He pauses, and I wait not so patiently for him to continue.

"Matthew will be exactly two months old on Christmas. I don't think that it's a good idea for us to take him across the country from moderate weather to freezing cold that young. Since both of the girls were born in California, I'd thought that a Christmas with snow would be the perfect memory of their first Christmas with us. However, I've had a change of heart. Their first Christmas with us should be about them and their family... their home, which is right here. Their first Christmas should be memorable because they have a home and parents who love them," he finishes, explaining his reasons.

A wave of relief washes over me. I hadn't realized how much stress our trip was putting on me until just now, even though it was two months away.

"I think you're right. I think that staying here would be best for everyone," I reply with a smile.

The baby monitor in my hand comes to life with a squeal from Matthew.

"I guess he agrees, too," Harm says with a little smile on his face as well.

"He's either agreeing or hungry," I say before turning to leave the kitchen, but I stop. "Harm, you have a while before you have to leave to pick up Ty and Abigail. Would you meet me in our bedroom? I'd like for you to sit with us while he eats...you know, like we did that first Sunday that we had him home."

"I'd like that," Harm says softly. "I'll call my grandmother when I get back to tell her that we aren't coming for Christmas."

I know that he wants to be more involved in Matthew's care, and I don't know why I can't seem to let him. I hope that being close to us will give him more of a feeling that he's present in Matthew's life.

As I walk down the hall towards the nursery, I have an idea. If we aren't going to the farm, why can't Harm's grandmother come here for Christmas?

In fact, I wonder if I could get her here for Thanksgiving. With Mattie coming, Harm's whole family would be together, and the girls would get to meet the first Sarah Rabb.

I'll let Harm call her and tell her that we aren't going to Pennsylvania for Christmas, but she'll soon be getting a call from me, inviting her here. It would be a wonderful surprise for Harm, and I think it would make him really happy.

**WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

When Harm got home from picking up Ty and Abigail from school, Ty wanted to go to his room and lie down. He said that he had a stomachache.

I check on him, and he isn't running a fever, but I tuck him into bed. I'll check on him before dinner to see how he's doing.

After leaving Ty's room, I check on Matthew and find that he's still sleeping, so I head to the kitchen to give Harm an update on Ty.

**KITCHEN**

**1530**

On my way to the kitchen to speak with Harm, I pass by the girls who are sitting at the breakfast bar, eating a granola bar and having a small glass of milk as a snack.

"Ty doesn't want a snack," I inform him.

"He isn't hungry? Do you think that we should be concerned?" he asks.

"I don't think so. It is unusual for him not to want something to eat after school, but he doesn't have a fever. Maybe his lunch didn't agree with him. Do you think that he's having some kind of trouble at school?" I ask, throwing out possibilities.

Our eyes follow a path over to Abigail. "Abigail, you have recess at the same time as your brother, right?" I ask.

"Yes. Why?"

"Does anyone pick on you or your brother at recess?"

"No," Abigail answers.

"Maybe it isn't that kind of problem. Maybe he's having trouble with his class work," Harm suggests.

"Maybe," I say thoughtfully.

"I'll go talk to him," Harm offers.

I reach out and touch Harm's arm, stopping him from leaving the room. "Let him rest for a bit, but you definitely need to talk to him tonight. If something is bothering him, we need to know what it is so that we can fix it."

"Agreed," he replies.

"Is Matthew still sleeping?" Abigail asks, looking at me.

"Yes, he is."

"Then, can you help me with my homework?" she asks.

"Sure I can," I reply, and I'm rewarded with a big smile.

"Then I'll go get it. I'll meet you in the living room," Abigail says.

"Okay," I agree.

**LIVING ROOM **

**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

Sami is entertaining Harm. She's telling him about her lessons on the color blue and the number three that she had in school today while Abigail is working on a math problem when the baby monitor on the table next to where Abigail is working comes to life.

"Matthew's awake," Sami squeals. "We can play with him now."

Abigail looks up at me, and I'm torn between running to my son and spending this time with my daughter.

I look at Harm. I don't know if I want him to volunteer to take over with Abigail or to go get Matthew. I'm about to offer my apologies to Abigail when she speaks.

"It's okay. I know that you need to go take care of Matthew, Momma," Abigail says with understanding.

My heart stops. She just called me Momma for the first time. How can I leave her now? She'll think that the word didn't mean anything to me.

"I can go get Matthew," Harm offers. "Sami can help me."

I look over at him. "Please do that," I say, knowing that he understands.

He's up in the time that it takes me to put my arms around Abigail. "You called me Momma," I whisper into her hair as tears choke me.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I won't do it again if it's going to make you cry," she says apologetically.

"I'm not crying because I'm upset. I'm crying happy tears. I love you so much, and I want you to call me momma as often as you want, Sweetheart," I tell her, giving her a tight hug.

Abigail has just started back on her math homework after our mother/daughter moment when Sami comes running into the room.

"Daddy says that he needs more practice changing Matthew's diapers."

"Why is that?" I ask just a fraction of a second before I see Harm stepping into the room with Matthew on his left shoulder and a wet spot on the right side of his shirt.

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I made the same mistake when I changed his diaper the first time, too, but he and I were alone in the hospital. I feel sorry that Harm made the same mistake in front of a three-year-old. My mistake will always be my little secret ... well, mine and the nurse who brought me a dry gown. His will be brought up whenever the picture pops into Sami's head.

"Did you forget to keep him covered?" I can't hold it in any longer and I burst out laughing. I bite my lip again. It feels good to laugh, but I feel guilty because it comes at Harm's expense. "Why don't you hand him over? I'll feed him while you change your shirt," I say, still laughing.

**KITCHEN **

**1615**

"Harm, I just went to check on Ty. He was up and doing his homework."

"Then I guess that it must have been something that he ate for lunch that didn't agree with him," he says.

"Yeah, maybe, but I still think that you should talk to him. You know, to be sure that he isn't having a problem."

"I will," he replies.

"The girls are washing up, so get ready to have helpers." I pause. "Before they get in here, I want to apologize for laughing about Matthew giving you a different kind of wetting down than you're used to." I can feel the smile creeping back on my face at the memory of Harm standing there with a wet spot on his shirt.

"In a month or two, I might find it funny, too, but I must say that it was good to hear you laugh, even if it was at my expense," he says.

"It's an easy mistake to make. You're trying to remember everything that you saw in the video while you're going through the check list in your head, and the next thing you know...you're wet."

He's grinning.

"What are you smiling about?" I ask.

"You described it to a tee. You've done it, too," he says, shaking a finger at me.

"Yes, but in the hospital. I didn't have any witnesses. So, it's your word against mine."

He and I are smiling adoringly at each other when the girls enter the kitchen, asking what they can do to help Harm with dinner.

I watch, smiling as Harm starts to assign tasks to each of our girls.

My husband got his indoctrination into fatherhood today and took it in stride, and my daughter called me Momma for the first time.

If I painted today, I'd have to go with a brighter color, azure blue, maybe.


	48. Chapter 48

**PART THREE**

**THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2007**

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1000**

**MAC'S POV**

Matthew is in his carrier, which is sitting on the coffee table in front of us, and Harm and I are on the couch, reading the newspaper. With the older children at school, it's quiet, but I notice that we're both reading a few lines and then lifting our heads so that our eyes clear the edge of the newspaper page to get a look at our son.

"Did I tell you what Sami said last night about her baby brother while I was tucking her in?" he asks, peering over the edge of his section of the newspaper for another look at our son.

"No, what did she say?" I ask curiously.

"She said that, having a baby in the house wasn't too bad, so she said that it was okay with her if we keep him," he says, smiling.

"What did you say?" I ask with a grin.

"I told her that you and I had already decided to keep him, but that I was glad to hear that she supported our decision," he explains, chuckling.

"Speaking of decisions...have you called your grandmother yet to tell her about our decision not to travel this Christmas?" I ask, wondering if he's forgotten.

"No," he says sadly, but he gets perkier when he announces, "I did call Mattie on Tuesday night. She's looking forward to coming for Thanksgiving. While I had her on the phone, I got online and booked her ticket."

"So, when is she going to be here?"

"Since her classes on Tuesday are in the morning, and she doesn't have class on Wednesday, she'll be here on Tuesday evening. Her flight is scheduled to land at 1845 our time," he says a little more animatedly.

It occurs to me while he's answering my question about Mattie's arrival that I could call his grandmother and tell her that we've decided not to travel to Pennsylvania for Christmas and invite her here for Thanksgiving at the same time to surprise Harm.

"You know, if you're putting off telling your grandmother that we aren't going to Pennsylvania because you don't want to disappoint her…I'll call her. You'll be leaving to pick up Sami from preschool in a few minutes. I can call her while you're gone," I offer.

"No, I'll call her. I know that it seems like I've been putting it off, but I thought that I'd wait to call her on Friday after Matthew had his checkup so that I could tell her that we aren't coming and let her know that the baby's doing great."

I must make a face that conveys my thought that he's just putting it off, thinking that the news is going to disappoint his grandmother because then he says, "I'll go get Sami and call her this afternoon while Sami's napping."

"Why don't you call her now? I'll go pick up Sami," I offer.

"You'll have to do it next week, so I'll go get her today. Besides, you don't want to take the baby out when you don't have to, do you?" he asks.

"I wasn't going to take the baby. Driving to the preschool, picking her up and driving back…I should be back in less than an hour, an hour tops. I thought you'd watch him." Did I just say what I think I said?

I was so focused on getting Harm to call his grandmother so that I could call her and ask her here for Thanksgiving that I didn't think through what I was saying, and the second it came out of my mouth, my heart stopped. I've just suggested that he spend an hour alone with Matthew.

"M - Me?" he stutters. "I mean, I'd be happy to stay with him," he adds, smiling like I've just told him that he can take up a Tomcat with unlimited flight time.

With a smile like that, how can I back out now?

"I just realized that he'll be up to eat about the same time that I'll have to leave to pick up Sami." His smile turns to a frown. I can't do this to him. I take a deep breath. "I guess it means that it's time for that breast pump to get some use," I say, trying to smile.

His smile is back, and I have mixed feelings. I'm thrilled that he's happy, but I'm feeling uneasy about leaving Matthew with him, and the latter is making me feel like a terrible person. He's Matthew's father. He's a good dad. I have no reason to feel apprehensive about leaving the two of them together for an hour. I may not have a reason to feel this way, but it isn't stopping me from feeling it.

**1050**

**HARM'S POV**

My eyes are focused on Matthew. They have been since Mac left the room to go get dressed for her first outing from the house since Matthew was born.

I can't believe that she's going to let me watch him while she goes to pick up Sami. I'm watching him so intently because I don't want to miss anything, anything that Mac would somehow know about when she returns with Sami and use as a reason why she won't let me watch him again.

I've just decided that I'm being paranoid when Matthew's face contorts into a very unhappy scowl just moments before his arms start moving in jerky motions. Then, he lets out a whimper.

Paranoid perhaps, but Mac hasn't left yet, so I reach to lift Matthew into my arms. He calms as his body makes contact with mine. I put his head on my shoulder and whisper in his ear, "I wish that you'd have stayed asleep until your momma had left. If Momma sees that you're awake, she may not leave the two of us to have some guy time after all."

I feel better when the sound of my voice seems to soothe my son even more. It makes me feel good to know that being with me doesn't scare him.

Feeling more confident since my son seems calm in my arms, I check his diaper. I'm not surprised that he's wet.

"There are no diapers down here, so we're off to the nursery to change you," I say softly, not so much because he needs to know where he's going, but to have something to say so that my voice will keep him calm and he doesn't let out a cry that will bring a certain Marine mother into the room, ready for battle.

**NURSERY**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

I secure the second tab on his disposable diaper. "All done, and look ... we're both dry this time," I say with a smile as my son just stares at me.

"There you are." I hear from behind me. "I went into the living room and the kitchen, but you weren't in either of those places," she says, and she sounds almost panicked.

"We're in here because Matthew needed a dry diaper," I explain.

I feel her hand touch my back. "Well, if you'll move over, I'll change him before I go." I can hear the apprehensive tone in her voice. She wants to stay and send me after Sami.

I finish folding his blanket around him. "Not necessary, we're all done," I say as I lift him up off the changing table.

"Then, if you'll pass him to me, I'll hold him while you change your shirt."

"No need, I remembered." I turn around with Matthew firmly back in place on my shoulder. "See, were both dry," I say with a grin.

She looks at me with surprise at my successful diaper change, but tries to hide it.

"Then, here's his bottle. I guess I should be going..." She pauses. "...but I should have time to sit with you for a couple of minutes."

It's my turn to give her a look, but it isn't surprise. It's more like 'you're stalling…go!'

"He's never had a bottle before, so I think that I should stay to make sure that he'll eat before I leave," she explains.

She has a point about that, but if he resists taking the bottle once, she'll fold, and I'll be on my way to pick up Sami. This is part of parenting that isn't in any of the books that I read: 'What to do when there's a conflict between what Mom wants to do and what Dad needs to do.'

She's looking at me with those big brown eyes, and it sends my husband desire to make my wife happy into overdrive. However, the soft sound of my son's coos reaching my ear has kicked my father sense to spend time with my son into overdrive. This is another thing that isn't covered in the books: 'What to do when your husband and father roles clash.'

My spine stiffens along with my resolve. I go back to work on Monday. I want this time with my son - selfish or not, but I need to be gentle with Mac's feelings.

"I'm sure that he'll be reluctant, but with you in close proximity, he might be even less likely to take the bottle. As you pointed out earlier, you're going to be gone for only an hour, tops. If I can't get him to take the bottle, I promise to hand him to you the second you walk back in the door."

I reach for the bottle that she has in her hand and hope that the look in my eyes conveys to her how important this is to me.

"Go pick up Sami, and let him and me have a go at it, please?"

My pleading eyes have made a dent in her mothering shield, but I can see in her eyes that she doesn't want to leave us.

"We'll walk you to the door," I say, trying to encourage her to let me do this.

**DEN**

**1140**

Mac didn't want to leave, but with Matthew content on my shoulder and a bottle in my hand, she was out of arguments to stay home. In fact, she was forced to leave in order not to be late to pick up Sami.

Since it took five tries to get Matthew to finally accept the bottle, there was a window of time around tries three and four when I'd wished that I'd gone to get Sami and left Mac at home. However, once he began to eat, getting my wings or making captain can't compare to the sense of accomplishment that I felt at taking care of my baby boy.

He's sleeping now, and I have to make a phone call to my grandmother that I'm not looking forward to making.

I lift the receiver and start to push the buttons on the phone base to make the call that was the reason why I was left at home with Matthew in the first place.

As I listen to the ringing of my grandmother's phone, I'm thinking of my time with my son. I hope that Mac will see my uneventful hour with Matthew as a positive thing and allow me more time with him, and not as a negative, that he and I can get along without her. I'm afraid, in her current state of moody exhaustion, that it will be the latter.

On the fourth ring, I hear the sweet voice of my grandmother.

"Hello."

"Hi, Grandma," I say cheerfully.

"Harmon, with a baby in the house, I know that you didn't call because you were bored." She's laughing. "What's on your mind?"

"Grandma, I've got something to tell you. It's about Christmas." I pause. A part of me doesn't want to do this. "We aren't going to be able to make it this year after all. We'd love to see you, and we want you to meet the girls and the baby, but we've been thinking -"

"Harm, I don't think that it's a good idea for you to try to come here this year, either," she says, cutting me off.

I didn't realize that I'd been holding my breath until it ushered out of me in relief that she understands.

"Not that you wouldn't be welcome if you were to come, but traveling with such a new baby from a mild winter climate to snow probably isn't such a good idea," she finishes.

"Matthew being so young is one of the reasons for our decision, but we also think that Sami and Abigail's first Christmas as part of our family should be at their home, which is here. I also don't think that Mac is really up to the trip yet, either," I explain.

"What's wrong with Sarah?" She sounds very concerned.

"I didn't mean to make it sound like she's sick. She's fine. It's just that she doesn't seem like herself. I don't know...she seems depressed and, because she was so excited about having a baby, it just seems odd to me that, with a healthy baby to hold, she'd feel that way. I spoke to Mac's doctor, and she doesn't think that it's anything to worry about, but I'm going back to work on Monday, so I'm concerned about how she'll handle having all the children by herself, especially since she's so tired," I tell her, and I feel better just sharing my concerns with her, but then she's always been able to get me to open up when other people couldn't.

"What does Sarah's mother think of her moodiness?" she asks hesitantly.

"I wouldn't know," I answer before realizing that she doesn't know about Mac's mother abandoning her. "She and her mother are estranged. Mac hasn't seen her mother since her father died several years ago, as far as I know." That tells her the information that she needs to know without getting into the whole sad story of Mac's mother leaving her behind when she left her abusive husband.

"That's a shame. A woman should have her mother around when she becomes a mother, especially the first time. Maybe when you go back to work on Monday, since Trish is so close by, you should ask her to fill in for Sarah's mother," she suggests.

"My wife and my mother really like each other, and I want to keep it that way. I don't think that having Mom help out is a good idea. Mac's obsessive about taking care of Matthew, so I don't want her to upset Mom. By the same token, I don't want my mother to try to get Mac to change her mind about letting us have Thanksgiving dinner here, which would upset Mac. Mac is insisting on hosting it since my mother has cooked every other holiday meal since we've been here," I say, explaining the situation.

"Sounds like you've got your hands full, so I think that you're definitely making the right decision about staying close to home for Christmas, but you aren't limited to coming on a holiday. When things settle down, come and see me," she says, and I can just imagine the grin on her face.

"Thanks, Grandma. The first of April, I'm due for a duty station rotation, so a move might be in our future not long after the New Year. I don't know for sure when it'll happen, but we'll get there as soon as we can so that you can meet the newest Rabbs," I promise.

"And I want to meet them, so I'll be looking forward to your visit whenever you can make it," she replies, making sure that I know that we'd be welcome anytime.

"Thanks, Grandma. I love you. Bye."

"You take care of that wife of yours. She's a keeper ... and call when you can with updates on your family. I love you all. Bye, Harmon."

**LIVING ROOM **

**1152**

I'm sitting on the couch when I hear the door open.

"Daddy," Sami squeals as she comes into the living room.

Mac looks concerned and mouths, "Where's Matthew?" from behind Sami.

"Did my ladybug have a good day at school?" I ask as I pull her up into my lap before mouthing to Mac above Sami's head. "He's in his crib...asleep."

"Yep, and I have to tell you about it now because today is Thursday, and Grandpa will be coming soon to take me to get Abigail and Ty before we go to see Grandma."

"I'll tell you what. Why don't you tell us about your day while I make our lunch?" I suggest.

"Okay," she says as she wiggles down off my lap.

"I think I'll go check on Matthew," Mac says as our little girl skips off to the kitchen.

I reach for the baby monitor on the coffee table. "He's fine, Mac. Come and have lunch with me and our daughter," I say pleadingly.

I get a reluctant nod.

"Did you have any trouble getting him to eat?" she asks.

"You bet I did. He definitely prefers to get his nourishment directly from you rather than a bottle..." I see a light in her eyes at the news that he likes the natural way best. "...but I did finally get him to eat. After I burped him, he went right to sleep. Now, if I can get his mother to eat something with his sister, we can all take a little nap before Frank gets here to pick up Sami," I say, hoping that I can get her to do what I suggested.

She seems resigned to the fact that I'm going to win this round. "Did you call your grandmother?" she asks as if trying to pull a victory for herself out of this situation.

"I did. She said that she understands why we aren't coming this year. She also said that it doesn't have to be a holiday for us to visit. Whenever the trip fits into our schedule, she expects to see us at the farm so that she can meet all the newest Rabbs," I say, filling her in on our conversation.

"Did she say anything else?" she asks, like she's expecting something more.

"Just that I'd better be taking good care of you. So, I'd better get some lunch in you, or my grandmother will have my six," I say with a grin.

Mac smiles at me in response, a rare sight these last two weeks.

**FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2007**

**1110 **

**MAC'S POV**

What a difference a day makes.

With a plan to get Harm's grandmother out here as a family reunion surprise for Harm, I'd started my day yesterday feeling a bright shade of blue, like royal blue. Royal blue is a medium shade of blue, but with a brightness to it that made it a comfortable color for me. Yes, I was in a royal blue mood yesterday morning.

My royal blue mood lasted only until I'd opened my big mouth and volunteered to go pick up Sami from preschool in order for Harm to make the call to his grandmother that would serve as my set up to invite her to come here for Thanksgiving.

It wasn't that I didn't want to pick up Sami. It was that I hadn't thought about Matthew's feeding schedule and that going to pick her up would mean that I'd be leaving Matthew for the first time.

It wasn't like I was going to work and going to be gone all day. I wasn't leaving him with a babysitter. I was leaving my son with his father. So, why was I so hesitant to do it?

I've been thinking about my reasons all night, but no matter how I arrange my thoughts, it sounds like I don't trust Harm with his own son, but I don't really feel that way. I know that Harm wouldn't let anything happen to our son, or any of our other children for that matter, as long as he had breath left in him.

Stranger than not being able to understand why it seems like I don't trust my husband with our son is that, when I got home and everything was fine, I went from a royal blue mood to more of an Air Force blue, which isn't as bright and has enough gray tone to it that it matched the in between state that my mood had shifted into - I was still happy to do something nice for Harm by getting his grandmother out here, but I was also feeling a bit down, hence the gray. I felt, I don't know ... jealous that Harm had mastered taking care of Matthew in the span of less than an hour, a mastery that I don't think that I've yet accomplished.

As Harm drives us towards Sami's preschool, the suns rays are warming my face through the windshield.

Matthew's two week's checkup went well. He's gained weight, so his pediatrician says that it tells him that there's no concern about the quality of my milk and that I should keep up the good work. He'll want to see Matthew again at six weeks for a follow up, and then he won't need to see him again until he's due for his first set of immunizations at three months.

I don't know if it's the warm sun on my face or the fact that I got confirmation that I'm taking good care of my baby, but I'd have to say that today my shade of blue is sky blue: light, airy, fresh and welcoming to the sun.

What a difference a day makes.

**RABB HOME**

**NURSERY **

**1210**

I put Matthew in his crib, but I can't leave him just yet.

I'm standing here next to the crib, watching him sleep when I feel his presence. Harm's entered the room.

His arms come around my middle, and he tilts his head until his chin is resting on my shoulder. "I like to watch him sleep, too," he whispers into my ear to keep from waking the baby.

"Sometimes I watch him, and I can't believe that he's really mine," I whisper back while my hand covers Harm's arms that are wrapped around me.

"Now that's a feeling that I can say with certainty that I understand what you mean. I know that he's mine, but when I watch him, I just can't believe that I had anything to do with something that's so perfect," Harm says with awe.

"Yes, exactly, but he really is my son." I'm getting teary eyed.

"Yes, he's _our_ son..." he corrects before loosening his grip and turning me around to face him. "...and I want you to know that having him...having a family...I wanted this only with you."

His words send a tear down my cheek. "Now that's a feeling that I completely understand. I can't imagine standing in this nursery with my son with anyone but you."

He presses his lips to mine and then quickly pulls away.

"They won't be asleep much longer. Maybe we should see about getting in a few winks before Sami wakes up," he suggests.

"No, not today. I promised to email Mattie after Matthew's checkup and to call Harriet with an update," I say.

"I know that there's a three hour time difference, but there will be time to call them after we nap without it being too late there," he says, trying to convince me to rest.

"I want to do it now before we go to pick up Abigail and Tyler," I insist.

"We?" he asks as if he's surprised by what I've just said.

"Yeah, we, I think that we should all go pick up our other two children. It's a little windy outside, so going to the park is out, but maybe we could get them some ice cream for an after school snack and take them to the ice skating rink at the University Town Center mall. We can put their jackets and skates in the car with Matthew's stroller in case they want to go," I say, explaining my plans to him.

"If we take them ice skating, that's one thing that I don't do well, so you know that they'll want you out on the ice with them," Harm says.

"I know. You managed to take care of Matthew for an hour yesterday all by yourself. So, I'm sure that you can handle him while he naps in his stroller while you watch the children and me skate. You can sit at a table in the food court just a few feet away," I say, flashing him a flirty smile. It must have had the desired effect because all I get from him is a nod in agreement. "I've got a few things to do before we go, so I'd better get to it," I say, turning to leave the room.

**DEN **

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

"Hello," says the soft voice of Harm's grandmother through the receiver.

"Hello, Grandma, it's Mac."

"Well, hello, dear. How are you?"

"Fine," I reply.

"And how are those great grandchildren of mine?" she asks with enthusiasm.

"That's one of the reasons why I'm calling. I know that Harm called you yesterday, but I wasn't sure if you'd talked about the children...and even if you had, I thought you might want to hear that Matthew had a checkup this morning, and his doctor said that he's doing well," I tell her.

"That's wonderful...but I'm not surprised. I saw you with Tyler last year and I knew that you'd be a wonderful mother," she says, and I can hear the sincerity in her voice.

"Thank you for your vote of confidence. It means a lot to me to know that you feel that way," I reply, truly grateful for her belief in me.

"You're welcome. Now tell me what the other reason is that you called," she says, getting right to the point.

"Your grandson, Harm, is the other reason," I say with a sigh.

"What's wrong with Harm?" she asks, concerned.

"Harm and I agreed that not going to see you for Christmas was best for our family, but he really wanted to make the trip to see you -"

"- And to show off his family. He's a proud papa," she says laughingly.

"Yes, he is, and I love him very much. So I was hoping that, if I called and offered you a personal invitation to come out here to see us that you'd take me up on my offer. I know that it doesn't give you a lot of time to make arrangements for Cocoa and the farm, but I was hoping that you could make it here for Thanksgiving. I know that it would really lift Harm's spirits to have you here...and Mattie's coming, too. It would give him the old-fashioned family holiday that he so wanted to have at Christmas there with you. If you can get away long enough, we'd love to have you stay here for Christmas, too. I mean, you could fly out for Thanksgiving and stay through Christmas," I rush to explain, not giving her a chance to cut me off.

"I'm old and set in my ways. Are you sure that you'd want me to stay that long?" she asks hesitantly.

"If you can, yes, we'd love to have you here for a nice long visit. Harm would have a wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas with his whole family around...but if you'd rather not or can't because you have plans there, I understand." I try not to sound disappointed as I give her an opening to turn me down, but I can't help that a little of it gets through in my voice.

"I'd love to come out to see my grandson, meet my newest great grandchildren and spend some time with all of you," she replies enthusiastically.

"Great, just tell me when you can come, and I'll make the arrangements," I respond excitedly.

"I'll need a couple of days to get things set up on my end, but other than that, you pick a time that's convenient for you," she replies.

"How about coming out on Thursday or Friday? That'll give you almost a week to make arrangements at your end, and about the same here to shake the jet lag before the holiday. Now that I think about it, Thursday would be perfect since Frank and Trish take Ty and the girls on Thursdays after school until almost bedtime, so that would make the trip to the airport much easier for me," I explain.

"Then I'll be ready to ship out on Thursday. Just let me know when," she says, and I can tell by her tone that she's smiling.

"If you've got a minute right now, I'll book your ticket before we hang up," I say as I log onto the computer at my desk.

Sarah Rabb hung up her phone in Pennsylvania, knowing that Harm wasn't in need of cheering up. He was just worried about his wife because he didn't understand the shades of blue that some women go through after having a baby.

She did hope that she could fill in for Mac's missing mother and get Mac to feeling better while she was there, which would make Mac think that her plan to cheer up Harm had worked.

If all went well, they'd both feel better.


	49. Chapter 49

**PART FOUR **

**THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2007**

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**1530**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm sitting at the breakfast bar, a cup of tea on one side of the cookbook that I've been staring at for the last twelve minutes and the baby monitor on the other.

Matthew and the original Sarah Rabb are taking a nap.

Last Friday afternoon, we picked up Ty and Abigail after school and, for the first time in two weeks, the whole family enjoyed a family activity outside the house.

I know that it was a pain to put everything like jackets and skates for the three older ones, along with Matthew's stroller into the minivan, but it felt good to be out of here for a while. The icing on the cake was that we were all together, and my shade of blue stayed the color of the sky until it was time for bed.

I hadn't slept in the master bedroom since the Sunday before after I'd heard Harm talking to Matthew. My feeling had been that, by not letting Harm have time with his son, I wasn't being a good wife and, therefore, I didn't deserve to share his bed.

On Friday night, I told myself that I was tired, the bed was there, and I should give myself a break and sleep in our bed - a reward for my efforts to rectify the situation. After lying in bed next to him until Matthew had awakened for a feeding, I'd gotten out of bed without having had even a few minutes of sleep.

Being more tired than I'd ever been before, I saw only the darkest shade of blue on Saturday until after I was able to get a couple of hours of sleep on the couch while Matthew was napping and Harm was out with Ty, Abigail and Sami, picking up his dry cleaning and buying groceries. However, several nights in a row of little to no sleep kept me from seeing the lighter shades of blue that day.

On Sunday, the return to having dinner at the Burnett home also had me staying in the darker shades of blue. Not because I don't like Trish and Frank, but because I dreaded getting into a discussion about Thanksgiving dinner again.

Trish didn't bring up Thanksgiving dinner and, since I was able to get a word alone with Frank to ask him to pick up Sami from preschool on Thursday so that I could pick up Harm's surprise from the airport, I was hovering in the middle hues of blue, nothing too dark, but nothing really light, either.

Monday started out the same as every day had for the last two weeks - with one major exception - Harm was back in uniform. That's when it hit me that he was going back to work, meaning that it was my responsibility to take care of the three children sitting around the breakfast table and the baby all by myself.

Monday may not have gone the smoothest, but no one was late for school, I wasn't late to pick up anyone and, though it wasn't ready when Harm walked in the door, I managed to make dinner, too.

Having that first day under my belt gave me a much needed mental 'can do' boost that made me feel better, and my mood on Tuesday reflected my more positive outlook, which made the day run a little smoother.

Wednesday went even smoother still, and I was really starting to feel like I was conquering my little blue demons, but I found my confidence waning this morning as I headed towards the airport to pick up Grandma Rabb.

Why then? Because, as I headed to the airport, happy that I wasn't going to have to keep her visit a secret from Harm any longer and sure that Harm would be happy when he saw her, it led me to think about topping off the evening by cooking Harm a special dinner. That's when it dawned on me that I'd be fixing dinner for Harm's grandmother, too. What if she hates my cooking?

Up until that point, I'd been thinking about how surprised Harm was going to be when he got home to find that his grandmother was there, but I hadn't been thinking about the fact that she'd be eating a dinner that I'd prepared. I took a deep breath. I should look at this as warm up practice for the big Thanksgiving dinner next week, I told myself.

Oh, God, what if she hates my cooking? I've been insisting on cooking the holiday meal, so I can't ask for help now, but what if I screw up Thanksgiving dinner with his grandmother and his parents in attendance? Will they think that Harm's made a bad choice in a wife who's also their grandchildren's mother?

I drove the rest of the way to the airport with my hands so firmly griping the steering wheel that my knuckles were white.

Grandma Rabb was tired enough from her trip that, after she'd gushed about how beautiful and wonderful Matthew is as we waited for her luggage, she asked if we were going straight to the house so that she could lie down and rest for a while.

We arrived here just two minutes shy of two hours ago. I showed her to the guest room that I'd made up for her this morning and left her alone to rest for a bit while I fed Matthew and put him down for a nap.

With both of them sleeping for most of the last two hours, I've had time to go through a couple of cookbooks, looking for something that sounds wonderful, but is simple enough for me to put on the table for dinner tonight.

**TEN MINUTES LATER**

**GRANDMA RABB'S POV **

Sarah is studying something very intently, so I want to warn her that I'm approaching her.

"Sorry that I conked out on you, dear, but, after my trip, I really needed a nap."

She turns on the stool to respond about the same time as I make it to the breakfast bar area.

"No need for apologies. You're on vacation. You do whatever you want or need to do to relax and enjoy your visit," she says cheerfully and in a tone that tells me that she's sincere in her words.

"Thank you, dear. That's very sweet of you," I say as I reach over and pat her on the arm. "I don't suppose that Matthew is available for me to get a good look at now that I've taken a nap."

"He's still sleeping, but he'll be up in about an hour. Would you like to have some tea with me while we wait?" she asks while raising her mug to let me know that she already has some.

"I'd love some." She starts to get off her stool, but I stop her. "I'm going to be here for awhile, so, if you don't mind, I'd like to make it myself so that I'll know where everything is. That way, I can get myself a cup in the middle of the night without disturbing you or having to root through all your cabinets."

"The kettle is on the stove at the moment since I made myself a cup a few minutes ago, but we usually keep it in the cabinet under the stovetop when it isn't in use," she says as she slides off the barstool. "I'll show you where everything else is that you'll need for tea and, while we wait for the water to boil, I'll give you a general idea about where you can find anything you might need here in the kitchen. After we have tea, if you'd like, I'll give you the five-cent tour of the house."

"I think that we've got a plan on how to spend the next hour then, don't we?" I say, thinking that tea with my granddaughter-in-law is the perfect way to start to get a feel for what she's going through.

The wheels in my head have been turning while Sarah's been opening cabinets and telling me in general what's in them.

She opens a pantry cupboard. "This one has dry items in it such as cereal, crackers and that sort of thing, but, more importantly, on the top shelf so that the children can't reach it on their own is where we keep the junk food type of snacks like chips and cookies." The tea kettle begins to whistle that the water is ready. "Would you like some cookies with your tea?" she asks sweetly.

"That's a lovely idea. I would. Thank you, dear," I reply in kind.

Sarah moves over to a small table located to one side of the kitchen with a package of cookies in her hand.

"If we sit here, you can see part of the backyard without going outside," she suggests.

After getting us a small plate on which to put our cookies and making herself a fresh mug of tea, Sarah finally sits down with me, and I've got my strategy all plotted. She's concerned about Harm, so, for this first conversation, I'll approach her from that angle.

"I hate to be so abrupt, but who knows when we'll have a few minutes of quiet time like this again? So forgive me, but, before he gets home, I'd like to know why you think that Harm needs to be cheered up."

Sarah takes a sip of her tea and, as she lowers her mug, she speaks softly, "For one thing, I don't think that he's sleeping very well. He doesn't look rested when he gets up in the mornings."

"Is he still running every morning or is he too tired to do that?"

"I don't know if he told you about his knee injury because it wasn't serious, but the doctor did recommend that he not run every day, so he took up bike riding and swimming as alternative exercises, but no, he hasn't quit doing some form of morning workout. Do you think that's important?"

"I think so. Answer one more question for me, and then I'll explain. Have you noticed him behaving differently ... things like being less interested in spending time with you or the children?"

I can see that she's giving my question some thought.

"No, I don't think that there's been any change, and, if there has been, it would be that he wants to spend _more_ time with us."

"Then I don't think that you have anything to worry about, dear. He's just going through what I call the shades of blue."

"Shades of blue?" she chokes out like a question, and there's fear in her eyes like I've uncovered her deep, dark secret.

'Bullseye,' I think as I explain my statement in general terms, or as it may apply to Harm, hoping that she'll make the connection to herself on her own.

"I know that I'm taking the fancy doctor talk out of it and oversimplifying, but it makes it easier to explain that way. Here's my theory in general: when someone is feeling a little down, a little blue, they have to run through a cycle of emotions to get back to feeling like themselves. That cycle is what I call 'shades of blue.' Some days you feel dark and dreary like midnight blue, and some days you feel almost normal and lighter, say baby blue, and some days you're on the color chart somewhere between, but when whatever it is that's bothering you or you need to work out is through, you'll start to feel a sunny yellow, for instance, and you know that you've made it through the shades of blue. However, when someone is depressed, I don't think that they see any real color. They withdraw from family and friends, and stop doing things that they enjoy. So, specifically about Harm, since he hasn't done anything that might suggest that he's depressed, I'll bet that he's just got a case of the blues."

"But he's got wonderful children who adore him. We just had a baby ... he has a son of his own ... and we're all healthy. Why would he have the blues?"

"Maybe the things that have happened over the last two, two and a half years have caught up with him. He's gone from being a bachelor to being married with children. I know that he loves you and each one of his five children, and you know it too, but if you think about it from his point of view, he's had a lot of big changes in his life in a relatively short time. On the other hand, it could be that he's so happy now that he's lamenting the years that he wasted by not marrying you sooner." I see her eyebrows go up in surprise. "He's been in love with you for a long time, even if he didn't tell you or you couldn't tell by the way he was acting at times." To keep us on topic, I move on quickly before she wants to ask me how I know that for sure. "Maybe with Mattie starting college, he's feeling his age. Who knows? Why does anyone get the blues? I just know Harm, and he'll work through it, but if you're really worried about him, maybe you should ask him what's bothering him."

"I would, but I'm afraid that he isn't happy with his life ... that I'm the reason why he's unhappy."

"When I've talked to him, he's sounded happier than I've ever heard him before, so I don't believe that. Could it be something at work? Maybe he's just a little out of sorts because of the upcoming holidays, you know, a case of the holiday blues. Since his father was shot down, he's never been fond of the Christmas holiday season."

"I hadn't thought about that. It could be that. He wasn't quite himself last year, but he wasn't like this either."

"Last year, he didn't have a son who shares his father's name, a child who he can't introduce to his father. You know as well as I do how much his father meant to him, and that's got to be bothering him just a little, don't you think? Speaking of the baby, how did you get my grandson to consent to naming his son Harmon? He never has liked that name."

Sarah is gazing out the window, and she looks as if her mind is a million miles away. I don't think that she even heard my last comment.

Suddenly, she starts to speak. "I don't know why I didn't think of that. Of course, the birth of his son just two months before Christmas, and with Harm and Ty working on a Christmas present for Abigail, I'm sure that the holiday is on his mind a little earlier this year. It would be only natural that he'd be feeling a little blue that he couldn't share the birth of his son with his father." She pauses for a moment and then stands. Looking at me as if she just remembered that I was there, she says, "If you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I've got a call to make, and then I'll give you that tour of the house before Matthew wakes up."

I don't know what she's up to, but I think that she's come up with something to help Harm. I hope that helping Harm helps her move through some of her own shades of blue.

I've got her focused on 'fixing' Harm and, when he gets attention from her, he'll feel that she's getting better and he'll feel better, which in turn I think will make her feel better.

I've been here for only a couple of hours and I've already completed what I'll call phase one - not bad for an old woman.

My next step is to spend the next couple of days watching to get an idea of what phase two should be ... or if it's needed.

**1645**

**HARM'S POV**

I walk into the house, and no one greets me. I'm thinking how unusual it is for me to be able to enter the house without a greeting from Ty or without Sami making a running start before launching herself at me.

I put my briefcase down out of the way by the door so that it's ready for me to pick up on my way out in the morning.

I decide to change clothes and head for the bedroom, but I can't resist stopping at the nursery to see Matthew. However, he isn't in there.

He must be with Mac, I think, as I continue to our bedroom to complete my original goal of changing clothes.

As I leave the bedroom, it dawns on me that today is Thursday. That means it wasn't that the children didn't care that I was home, it means that they aren't here. They're with their grandparents. I feel better now that I've realized that, and make my way to the living room. If Mac isn't in there, she'll be in the kitchen, working on dinner.

I approach the kitchen and hear Mac talking about me. "Harm, should be home any minute."

Who is she talking to I wonder as I take another step, hoping to hear the person to whom she's speaking respond in some way.

"I'm looking forward to seeing him," the other person says, and it takes only a couple of words for me to recognize the voice.

I step into the kitchen.

"Grandma!" I say, surprised.

She stands, and I move quickly to the table to greet her.

"Surprise," she says to me as I reach her and wrap my arms around her in a hug that she immediately reciprocates. "I hope that you're really as glad to see me as you seem to be, because your wife has invited me to stay through Christmas," she says as we embrace.

"I am, and I'm glad that she did. I wish that I'd thought of it," I say, releasing my grandmother and moving over to Mac who's standing near the oven.

I wrap my arms around Mac. "It's a wonderful surprise. Thank you," I whisper in her ear as I hug her.

"You're welcome," she responds with a smile.

"Do you need for me to do anything to help with dinner?" I ask, hoping that tonight she'll let me help with something, but also wanting her to say no so that I can visit with my grandmother for a while before dinner. After I pick up the other three kids from Mom and Frank, I won't have a chance to visit with just her tonight until after they've gone to bed.

"No, I've got everything under control," Mac replies.

"Then I'm going to head back over there ... " I say, pointing towards my grandmother and the table. " ... because I saw someone over on the table who I haven't said hello to yet."

Mac gives me a peck on the cheek. "He's sleeping," she whispers to me as I turn and move towards the carrier that's sitting on the table in front of my grandmother.

"You did good, Harm. He's just perfect," my grandma says with a smile.

I look down at my sleeping son.

"Of course, he is - he's a chip off the old block," I say, flashing my grandmother the cocky fighter jock smile that I don't get to use very often these days.

"Well, of course, that's the reason. It isn't like that beautiful wife of yours had anything to do with it," she says with a laugh.

"Okay, you've made your point. He does have a perfect mother," I admit.

"I wouldn't say that I'm perfect," Mac interjects from her position a few feet away.

I move back to Mac and slip my arm around her waist until my hand is resting on her hip. "Maybe ... maybe not ... but you're pretty close to it ... and you're definitely perfect for me."

I'm standing close enough to hear the hitch in her breathing.

"That's very sweet of you to say." I can tell from her voice that she's near tears. "Why don't you have a seat with your grandmother? Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes, so you'll have a few minutes to chat before I get dinner on the table," she says with forced cheerfulness.

I drop my hand from Mac's waist and make quick work of the space between where I am and the table where I slip into a chair.

"So, tell me, Grandma, when did my wife have time to arrange this little surprise?" I ask as I turn Matthew's carrier around so that I can see him. I know that he's sleeping, but since I've gone back to work, I'm willing to take whatever time I can get with him.

"Last Friday," my grandmother answers.

"I'm surprised that one of the children didn't spoil the surprise," I say with a chuckle.

"That's why I had her fly in on a Thursday. The kids had no need to know because they weren't going to be home," Mac explains from her spot in the kitchen.

"So I'm not the only one who's going to be surprised this evening. Ty is going to be thrilled to see you," I say to my grandma.

"I don't know about that ... I didn't bring Cocoa ... " She laughs. " ... but I'm looking forward to seeing him and I'm anxious to meet your girls, too."

"Well, you're in for a treat there, too. They're great. I know that you've seen pictures, but I think that they look even more like Mac in person than they do in their pictures. I have to warn you though. Since they've been with us, the younger one, Sami, is turning into quite the little mini-Mac Marine. Abigail, on the other hand, shares Mac's love of shoes. I guess you could say that she takes after Mac's softer side," I say teasingly.

I look over to see what reaction my statement will get from Mac, but she's peeking in the oven, I presume to check on dinner. She apparently didn't hear me.

"They sound delightful. Mac also warned me that Abigail may be resistant to speak or come close to me, but not to worry. She'll warm up to me in a few days."

"I don't know if it'll take even that long. I'm sure that she isn't to the point where she'll welcome you with open arms, but she's made a lot of progress in the last couple of months. A couple of weeks ago, she called Mac 'Momma' for the first time."

"But she hasn't said it since," Mac adds with a sigh.

I look over and see that Mac has, at some point, begun to listen to our conversation again.

"Has she called you Daddy, yet?" my grandmother asks.

I look down at Matthew to avoid eye contact with her while I respond sadly, "Not once."

"She's a girl. You've always had a way with the ladies. I'm sure that you'll win her over soon," my grandma says as she puts her hand on my arm in a comforting gesture.

I look up, and she's got a comforting smile and a look in her eyes that warms me from the inside, like drinking hot chocolate on a cold day.

"I hope so," I reply with a small smile.

**RABB SUV**

**1845**

"You said that there's a surprise for us at home. What is it?" Ty asks me.

"It isn't a what," I reply.

"Come on, Dad. Give us a hint," Ty pleads.

"Okay. It isn't a 'what'. It's a 'who'."

"Is it Mr. Bud or Ms. Harriet?" Ty asks.

"No." We're almost home, so there's time for only one more clue. "It's someone you know, Ty, but the girls haven't met this person yet."

That has him thinking hard, and I turn into the driveway without having to give any more clues.

I open the door, and Ty jumps out of the SUV and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He takes a step towards the house as Abigail and Sami are getting out of the car.

"Is it Gee Gee?" Ty asks.

I offer him a wide smile, and I don't have to say that he's right for him to know that he is, so I just say, "I think the easiest way to find out is to go inside. Everyone was in the living room when I left a little while ago."

He makes a dash for the front door.

"Who's Gee Gee?" Sami asks as she holds out her arms for me to carry her inside.

"She's what Ty and the two of you may call my grandmother."

"Your grandmother's here?" Abigail asks softly.

"Yes, she is, and she's very excited to meet you. So are you ready to meet her?"

"Is she nice?" Sami asks.

"Very nice," I reply with a grin.

Ty comes running out of the house. "It's Gee Gee. She's here. Hurry up and come in so you can meet her," he says excitedly before taking Abigail's hand to hurry her into the house. "She's really nice, and I've already asked her if she'll make us cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and she said she would. They are so-o-o-o good," Ty says, practically bounding with joy.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME **

I walk in behind Ty and Abigail, carrying Sami. Ty leads Abigail right over to my grandmother.

Mac reaches out from her spot next to my grandmother to take Abigail's other hand.

"This is Abigail. Abigail, this is Daddy's grandmother, your great grandmother," Mac explains.

"That's why we call her Gee Gee. It's short for great grandma," Ty informs Abigail.

"Hello, Abigail. It's a pleasure to meet you," my grandmother says with a big smile.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I didn't know that Harm had a grandmother."

"He does, just like you do," Mac explains.

"And she lives on a farm in Pennsylvania and she has a dog named Cocoa," Ty rattles off.

"Where's Cocoa?" Abigail asks.

"She's a big dog. I couldn't bring her with me, but I didn't leave her alone. I have the next door neighbor's son taking care of her. He'll take good care of her because he likes dogs very much. Cocoa's mother lives with his father. I've got a picture of Cocoa in my bag that I brought for Ty. I'll have time to unpack tomorrow while you're at school. If you want to see it, I'll show it to you when you get home."

"I'd like that. Thank you," Abigail says shyly.

"And, Grandma, this is Samantha, but we all call her Sami," I say before putting Sami down, knowing that she'll walk right up to Gee Gee.

"Is she a good dog?" Sami asks as she moves to stand directly in front of Gee Gee.

"Yes, she's a very good dog," Gee Gee answers.

"She's smart and brave, too. She attacked the man who grabbed me so that I could get away and Dad could get the man and save the little girl that the man took," Ty says, briefly recounting what had happened the previous year when we'd gone to the farm for Christmas.

Abigail looks at Ty. "Harm saved a little girl from a bad man?"

"Yes, it was a little scary, but I wasn't worried because I knew that Dad wouldn't let anything bad happen to me."

I think that Ty's giving me too much credit, but I'll take all the help that I can get with Abigail and, since neither Mac nor my grandmother are correcting him, I'm not going to say a thing.

**FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0245**

**GRANDMA RABB'S POV **

My bladder wakes me every night. I miss the days when I could sleep through the night. I hate getting older. Correction, I hate feeling old.

After making my necessary bathroom stop, I decide that a little walk around the house would help to work the kinks out of my sore knees. Damned arthritis. I hate feeling old.

I'm doing well with my directions and make it out into the living room without so much as a stubbed toe.

I easily find the light switch and flick it on. In the span of less than a second, I see the television and think that maybe a bad movie on late night TV will bore me enough that my body will crave sleep again.

I start to move forward, but I'm startled by a voice.

"Harm?" Sarah asks before I see the top of her head rise above the back of the couch.

Her hair is mussed. She was sleeping.

"No, dear, it's me. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here." I reach over and flick off the light. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's fine. I must have dozed off."

I quickly deduce the scene as I remember it when I entered. The TV wasn't on ... the only light in the room was courtesy of the front porch light coming through the small glass window in the front door. To me, this indicates that she wasn't doing anything that you'd doze off doing, such as watching TV or reading. She was sleeping in here. I wonder how long that's been going on ... it certainly would be one thing that might give Harm cause to worry and therefore not sleep well himself.

"I'm headed back to bed to see if I can get in a few more winks before it's a reasonable hour here."

"It's 0545 in Pennsylvania. If you're ready for breakfast, I'll be happy to make you something," Mac offers.

"No, dear, I'm not hungry yet. I think that my little walk around the house worked some of the kinks out of my joints. I'm ready to get some more sleep. I think that I'm really going to enjoy my vacation." I stop, but decide to add, "You should go to bed, too. You know, get some rest before Matthew gets you up again."

"I'll head that way in just a minute," she says, but I don't believe her.

"Good night, dear."

"Good night," she returns.

I start down the hall, knowing that she has no intention of getting up and going to bed.

I think that I'm already starting to get a clearer picture of what's going on here.


	50. Chapter 50

**PART FIVE**

**SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2007**

**GUEST BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**2145**

**GRANDMA RABB'S POV**

I slip into bed with surprising ease. I'm amazed that, after only two days in the drier, warmer climate of southern California, my arthritic knees aren't as stiff and sore as when I'd left the cold of Pennsylvania.

I love my farm. It's my home, a home that I shared with my husband, even if our time together was cut short. I can't imagine ever leaving it, but, at the same time, the reduction in my aches and pains makes me wonder if I could wrangle an invitation here next winter - if they're still here.

I lay my head down on my pillow. I close my eyes and, behind my lids, I can see the scenes that have drawn me to the conclusion that there is definitely a need for a phase two. I'll have to sleep on it to determine what that might entail, though. I wonder if this next talk should be another one with Sarah or one with my grandson.

I start to organize my thoughts as I wait for the sandman.

When I first saw them together on Thursday evening, the day I arrived, I immediately noticed that the dynamics between Harm and Sarah had definitely changed. I'd hoped that it was jet lag that had dimmed my powers of perception and that, yesterday, I'd see things differently.

I tried to pay more attention, observe more closely on Friday to see if I'd missed some subtle clues that perhaps they'd adapted because they now had three more children than when I'd seen them last year.

At dinner on Thursday evening, Tyler requested permission to stay up later so that he could spend a few more minutes with me. Harm and Sarah looked at each other and exchanged no words, but a few moments later, they nodded at each other before Harm announced that everyone could stay up an additional thirty minutes, but no more because they had school the next day, and that I'd had a long trip and would probably want to turn in early, too. Those two definitely still have a connection, but the outward signs of affection are gone.

Yesterday morning, before Harm left for work, he hugged Tyler and then he squatted down to look Abigail in the eye and told her to have a good day at school. She, in turned, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. The hug, I found out after Sarah had returned from taking the children to school, had been something new. In fact, today had been the first time that it had happened. Harm was letting her set the pace for their relationship, given her distrust of men. Sarah also informed me that Harm was looking forward to the day when his little princess wasn't so cautious, at least with him, and he could pick her up without fear of scaring her half to death and hug her the way he did Sami, which he'd done that morning before kissing her cheek and returning her feet to the floor. Seeing him as a loving father and remembering him from their visit last Christmas as a loving husband, it had surprised me when he'd given Sarah only a peck on the cheek before leaving the house.

I don't know if it bothered me more that he seemed indifferent towards his wife or that it didn't seem to bother her.

I had to remind myself that they've added three children to their family since last year when I saw them and perhaps they've decided that anything more would be inappropriate in front of the younger children, or perhaps it's something that's sprung up in the last three weeks. The fatigue on both of their faces is obvious. Perhaps, it's simply that they put forth the effort to be sure that the children know that they're loved, given the newest member of the family's drain on their time. However, they need to take time for each other, as well, and with Matthew being only three weeks old, I think a nice kiss between the two of them before he goes off to work would be the perfect way to let one another know that, though they might not have time to sit and enjoy a romantic dinner or even a cup of tea together right now, they're both looking forward to things settling down and being able to have times like that again.

I'd scolded myself that I was reading too much into things - making a mountain out of a mole hill - as I lay in bed reviewing the day on Friday night, much the way I'm doing tonight. Before I let sleep claim me on Friday, I told myself that I'd seen only week nights, days when Harm had to go to work. Perhaps the weekend would be different.

Well, if today was any indication, it certainly isn't any different. In fact, it was much the same. On my middle-of-the-night walk to get a glass of water in the kitchen, Sarah was once again sleeping on the couch. When Harm left for the grocery store, all three children wanted to go with him - something about a free cookie - and he gave Sarah the same chaste kiss on the cheek that he'd given her the previous two mornings, even though the children were off getting their jackets to go with him. I realize that I was in the room, but he'd had no qualms about kissing her on the lips in front of me at the farm, so I doubt that my being there was the reason for the lackluster display of affection.

Now, back to my original question: Should I have my next talk with my grandson or his wife?

I hear someone in the hall and decide to get up to investigate. Maybe if I can help with the baby, Sarah will go to sleep in their room tonight. That alone may help things.

It isn't Sarah. It's Harm leaving the nursery with Matthew. It's the first time that I've seen Harm hold his son since I arrived. It's a beautiful sight and it brings me out of my worrisome mood. I smile.

Harm sees me and places his index finger on his lips in a "sh" sign. I guess the baby's asleep. Once he sees the recognition in my eyes that I understand to be quiet, he uses the same index finger with which he'd just covered his lips to point to his bedroom. He motions with that hand to come closer and then disappears into his room. It takes me a moment, but I enter soon after him.

I come in to find that he's resting his back against some pillows propped up against the headboard with his son cradled in his arms. He points to a chair next to the bed. It's close to the bed, and I assume that he positioned it there when he entered the room so that we could both look at the baby.

I take the offered seat and I'm looking at Matthew when Harm begins to speak, making me believe that looking at the baby isn't the only reason for the chair placement.

"He is perfect, isn't he?" Harm whispers, but I can hear the pride that he feels in being a father.

"Yes, he is...perfect," I whisper back.

"Mac says that he looks like me, but I think that he looks like her," Harm says conversationally.

"I think he has her nose, but other than that, I think he looks like you," I reply, having studied Matthew's face for the last few moments.

"Well, you're in luck, baby boy, because you're momma has a cute nose," he says to the sleeping baby before lifting him and placing a gentle kiss on the end of his little nose.

I don't think that hearing Harm in the hall was an accident. I think that fate intervened to answer my question. I need to have a talk with my grandson. Now, where should I start?

I don't have to start. He must be ready to talk because, though he's looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms, he's talking to me.

"Mac doesn't let me help her with him. So, I wait until she's dozed off and then I go in and take him from his crib. I'd sit in there, but she always has the baby monitor with her. It isn't that I don't want her to hear me talking to him, but I figure that she won't be able to sleep if she hears me in there with him. So, to let her get at least a couple of hours of sleep each night - I kidnap him." He pauses. "I used to take him in the living room, but now that she's sleeping in there, I bring him in here."

"How long has she been sleeping in there?" I ask quietly, trying not to sound too concerned so that I don't worry him any more.

"It seems like since we brought him home, but I know that isn't true. The first week or two, she'd at least lay down in here with me, but he was eating every two or two and a half hours, so she wasn't in here for very long before she had to get up to feed him, and she didn't get much sleep. A couple of times, I've gone in there to get him like I did tonight, and she's been asleep in the rocking chair - she's dozed off while watching him sleep - and I just leave them alone and go back to bed." He sounds so sad.

I decide to get into what might be a touchy subject. "You said that she doesn't let you help with Matthew. Do you mean since you've gone back to work?" I ask.

"No, she's been that way since we brought him home," Harm says dejectedly.

"Do you know why she won't let you help?" I ask with concern.

"Not really ... just suspicions," he says with a sigh.

"So you haven't talked to her about it," I say, wanting to confirm what I've observed since I've been here.

"Not really, because, if my suspicions are correct, the talk would be painful for her, and I don't want to do that to her when she already seems depressed," he explains.

"Tell me what you think that she's worried about. What do you think that she's afraid of?" I ask, gently probing for more information.

He finally looks at me.

"I didn't tell you the whole story about why Mac and her mother aren't close." He pauses and begins, "You see, Mac's father was an alcoholic and, when he drank or because he drank, he hit Mac's mother. She doesn't like to talk about her childhood, so I really don't know much about how often or how badly he beat her. I know that Mac used to hide in the closet while her mother was being beaten. Anyway, her mother finally grew tired of the abuse and left him."

"Good for her," I say with a little too much enthusiasm, and I get a raised eyebrow reaction from Harm. "You tell me how getting away from a man who abused her wouldn't be good thing, Harmon," I snap.

"She left her only child, Mac, behind," Harm quietly explains.

"With the man whom she was fleeing because he hit her?" I say more loudly than I'd meant to, startling the baby.

Harm immediately starts to soothe his son after my outburst upset him.

"Yes..." he says softly. "...and I think that's part of the reason why she doesn't want to share Matthew with me. She doesn't want him to feel like she's leaving him." He pauses to look down to make sure that his son has returned to a peaceful sleep before looking back up at me and continuing. "Along with a mother's natural instinct to think that no one can care for her child better than she can, I think that her childhood has something to do with it, even if I'm not right on the mark about how or why. I'd think that she doesn't trust just me with him, but she won't let _anyone_ help her," he says, sadness and worry in his voice.

"Oh, Harm, this must be so hard for you, but it could be about something else, something completely different than what you're thinking," I say, trying to console him.

"Like what?" he asks.

"Maybe she just doesn't realize that she isn't letting you help...or maybe she doesn't think that you want to help...or you said that she hasn't been quite herself lately. Depressed is the word you used to describe her mood, wasn't it?" I say, trying to suggest other reasons for her behavior.

"Yeah, it was, and I still don't understand what she has to be sad or depressed about," Harm says with a sigh.

"I want to share something with you. It happened many, many years ago. I had a wonderful husband, a beautiful home and a week old healthy baby boy sleeping in a cradle next to me. I should've been happy...in fact, I should have been on top of the world, happier than I'd ever been before, but all I could do was cry. Since I didn't understand what I was feeling and certainly didn't think that there was a thing that he could do about it, I didn't want to mention it to my husband. So, I managed to hold it in until your grandfather left for the day, but the moment that he was gone, the tears would come down my face in more like sheets than drops. I had no idea what was happening to me. I thought that having a baby had made me crazy. Late every afternoon, I'd wash my face and put on makeup to hide the fact that I'd been crying all day, literally sometimes, all day before your grandfather came home. Your father was about three-weeks old when, one day out of the blue, your grandfather showed up at the house two hours early and caught me crying. I was so embarrassed. How could I explain to him that I was crying because I wasn't happy, yet I was happy? I just knew that he'd also think that I'd gone crazy. I didn't know what to say to him, but I was sure that the truth wouldn't be a good idea. Your grandfather took me in his arms and let me cry for an hour straight. He didn't say a word. When I'd cried every drop of moisture from my body and I just couldn't cry any more, he said, "Sarah, I love you. I don't know why you're sad, but if you'll tell me, I promise that I'll listen...just listen." I stop there, wondering if he's made any connections to his own situation.

"What did you say?" Harm asks curiously.

"I said, "You'll think I'm crazy." To which he said, "Then we're even, because I'm crazy... about you."

"What happened after that?" he asks like a little boy who's anxious to hear the end of a bedtime story.

"I told him about the long cries that he hadn't seen and how I knew that I shouldn't be crying because I should be happy," I explain.

"What did he say?" he asks, a little antsy. I suppose that he knows that there's a point to my story.

"He said, "What makes you think that they aren't happy tears?" Then he kissed me, and it was like he'd breathed new life into me. Looking back, I know that most of it was hormonal, but to put it in the simplest of terms, in those weeks that followed your father's arrival, I thought that I'd given up being a woman for being a mother. I don't know if it was your grandfather's words, the way he kissed me, or if the baby blues had almost run its course naturally, but something fell into place for me, and I started to heal because I knew that I didn't have to give up being a woman or his wife to be a mother. I just needed to learn how to juggle them all. It took a few more weeks for that to happen, but, when it did, I felt like myself ... normal again."

"Do you think that she's holding on to Matthew so tightly because she thinks that she's lost me?" Harm asks with fear in his eyes.

"I'm sure that no two women feel the same way after having a baby. Only she can tell you what she's feeling, and I'm not saying that your suspicions aren't right. I'm just trying to tell you that it may not be something from her past that's causing her to act this way. Your wife has gone through some big changes in her life in a relatively short period of time: the move to San Diego, getting married, adopting three children, having a baby, her pending retirement after twenty years in the Marine Corps. It could be that she's just overwhelmed or it could be that she just has a good old-fashioned case of the "baby blues," which is being caused by a change in her hormone levels and fatigue. You need to talk to her and find out what's going on with her. If it turns out to be something dark like you suspect, then you really don't want to let it go on for too long. You'll need to work on getting her some help and help your children through it as much as you can. However, no matter if it's big or small, she needs to know that she has your support, your love. You do love her, don't you?"

"With all my heart, Grandma...with all my heart." I can hear the sincerity in his words.

I reach out and touch his arm until he looks me in the eye. "Then let her know that." I stand. "Even if you think that she should already know...she needs to hear it right now," I tell him.

He nods in understanding and then whispers, "Thanks, Grandma, I'll talk to her."

"Soon?" I ask.

"Soon," he answers.

"How long do you spend with him?" I ask, nodding at Matthew.

"Until he starts to whimper... then I take him into the nursery, put him in his crib before his whimpering becomes crying and leave, knowing that Mac will be in to take care of him in just a few seconds."

"I'll leave you two alone to have your time. Good night, Harmon."

"Good night, Grandma...and thank you."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2355**

**HARM'S POV**

I've made it back to our bedroom in record time tonight. I've even had time to get under the covers before I hear Mac making her way down the hall. She's heard Matthew's cries through the monitor and is in route to the nursery to take care of his needs.

My grandmother's story about her own struggles after she had my dad has caused a flurry of activity inside my head.

It all seems so crazy to me, but my grandmother agrees with Mac's doctor that her problem is more than likely just a case of the "baby blues." So now what am I going to do about it?

My grandfather kissed my grandmother, and it made her feel better. Okay, so that's an over simplification of what she said, but I don't think that me kissing Mac will cure anything.

My grandmother is right about a couple of things, though. I've been assuming that the reason why Mac's distancing herself from me is something catastrophic when it may be something far less dramatic. I also agree that, if it is something major, it needs to be addressed sooner rather than later.

**SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2007**

**LIVING ROOM**

**BURNETT HOME**

**1545**

**HARM'S POV**

Minutes after we arrived, Frank coaxed Tyler, Abigail and Sami to follow him into the den so that they could watch a movie on his big screen TV, giving my mother the opportunity to talk about Christmas gifts with us.

"While the children are in the other room, I want you to look through this." She reaches under the seat cushion of her chair and pulls out an inch-thick book. "It's a toy catalog. While the children were here on Thursday, we had each one of them go through it. Tyler and Abigail marked items that they might like to see under the Christmas tree this year with their initials, and Sami circled her selections. Frank and I gave the book a look and made some choices. We wrote their name across the item's picture, but before we go shopping, we want to make sure that they meet with your approval. Now, it's last year's catalog, so the exact item may not still be available, but we'll purchase the same type of item. If you flip thorough it, you'll be able to get an idea of what you might want to get them this year and you can see what we'd like to buy for them. We just need to know if what we want to buy is okay."

I'm sitting next to Mac on the couch, but Mac is closer to my mother. However, she has the baby in her arms, and I see an opportunity to get to hold my son for a little bit.

"Mac, I'll take Matthew so that you can look through the catalog," I offer.

"No, he's sleeping. Your mother went to all the trouble to set up a bassinet in here for our visits, so we should use it. I'll put him in there so we can look at the catalog together. It'll save time," she says sharply, and taking away my opportunity to hold Matthew in the process.

What she says is certainly logical, but it's beginning to look like my stolen hours with him in the middle of the night are going to be the only way that I'm going to be able to bond with my son.

Maybe I'll set out for my morning exercise fifteen minutes later. That will give me a few more minutes with him.

**1700**

"It's five o'clock. I guess it's time for me to see to our dinner," my mother announces before getting on her feet from the chair that she's been sitting in while we've all been chatting in the living room while the children are in Frank's den, watching a Disney movie.

"Trish, I'd be happy to help. I've been here for three days and I haven't lifted a finger in the kitchen except to make myself a cup of tea," my grandmother says, offering her assistance in preparing tonight's meal.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think that it should be almost ready," Mom replies. "Harm, I do need you in the kitchen." I look at my mother because she turned down my grandmother's offer to help and then recruited me right in front of her. "I need a serving platter that I don't use very often, so I keep it on the top shelf of the cabinet. You're the only one I know who's tall enough to reach it without climbing on a chair," she adds, explaining why she's called upon my services.

"Lead the way and point me to the right cabinet. I'll get it down for you," I say with a grin.

"Thank you, dear," she replies.

**KITCHEN **

My mother points to the cabinet above her refrigerator. I nod and step towards it.

"I remember being tired after you were born, but Mac looks exhausted, like she isn't getting any sleep at all. Is Matthew not sleeping? I mean, some babies get colic and that keeps a mother up more," Mom says, probing for information.

"Matthew's sleeping about three hours at a time. Mac's getting some sleep, but not much," I answer, opening the cabinet above the refrigerator, but there's nothing there. "Mom, this cabinet is empty. Is there another cabinet where it could be?"

"You should give her a night off and take the baby off her hands. Of course, you don't look rested yourself. If Mac's up with the baby, why aren't you sleeping?" she asks in a concerned tone.

My grandmother's words had echoed in my head last night, causing me to spend most of the night thinking about one of two things: what I could do or say to Mac that would help her like my grandfather had helped my grandmother or why Mac won't let me help her take care of our son. I got maybe four hours of sleep, none of it more than an hour at a time and none of it restful.

"I know that Mac's exhausted and I'm worried about her. I was up last night trying to figure out why Mac won't let me take care of Matthew for a few hours so that she can sleep." My frustration with the situation comes out in my answer, and I sound angry.

My mother doesn't seem upset by my tone and says calmly, "Did I ever tell you about the worst, or maybe I should call it the dumbest quarrel that I think that your father and I ever had?"

"No," I reply, wondering what this has to do with anything.

"I say that it was the worst because it was over a few misinterpreted words." I look at her confused. "I was seven months pregnant with you. I was worn out, so I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of the afternoon. Your father came home and, as soon as I heard the front door shut, I awoke with a start. I hadn't started dinner yet. I was distraught. I'd never done that before and I thought, 'My baby isn't even here yet, and I can't keep up with the things that I've been doing all along. How am I going to manage to raise a child and get my husband's dinner on the table?' I know that it isn't very liberated sounding, but as they say...we've come a long way, baby, but that's how things were at the time."

"Dad got angry because you didn't have his dinner ready when he got home, and he started a fight with you?" I ask with disbelief.

"No, dear, that isn't why ... and I'd have to say that I started the argument. I stood up to face your father and told him that I'd fallen asleep and that dinner was going to be late. You father looked at me and said, "I can make us something." Then he smiled that cocky aviator grin that you have, too, and said, "You might end up with soup from a can and a grilled cheese sandwich, but it'll be eatable."

"What's wrong with what he said?" I ask, not understanding.

"Because of what was going on inside my head, I didn't hear it as the thoughtful gesture that I'm sure was his intent. I heard that I was too tired to make dinner and took that as not being able to take care of him...so how was I going to be able to take care of a baby, too? I told your father that I was perfectly capable of making us dinner and to get out of my way. He said that he'd prefer that I went into the bedroom to rest while he made dinner. To make a long story short, we fought back and forth over who was going to make dinner until he said that he must have walked into the wrong house or I'd been possessed by aliens or something, and he walked out of the house. I went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I felt better having gotten a truly good night's sleep. Your father had come home and left a note on his pillow. 'If you're feeling up to it, I'll take you out to dinner tonight.' My head was clear, and I smiled...all was forgiven, and that was the end of my raging hormone drama. I may have shed a few tears here and there, but that night was as bad as things got for me."

"Let me get this straight. He didn't really do anything wrong, but you were mad at him anyway," I say, confused and wanting clarification.

"Yes and no. I think you missed my point. Your father thought that the fight was about making dinner. To me, the fight was about him believing that I couldn't keep up with being a mother-to-be and his wife. Men and women look at things differently to start with, but when you add pre or post pregnancy hormone levels into the mix, the gaps between them can sometimes become canyons," she explains.

"Was there anything that he could have said or done differently that night?" I ask, still not quite sure that I understand what the problem was.

"Of course, there's no way to be sure, but I think that if he'd said that he'd like to take a stab at making an old bachelor favorite of his or something like that, something that made it sound like he wanted to do it for himself, it might have made a difference," she says, but she doesn't sound all that certain.

"So, just rewording what he'd said might have been all that he'd needed to do...you've got to be kidding me," I respond with disbelief.

"No, I'm not kidding. It could've made a difference," she insists.

I look at my mother, thinking that she must have been crazy. "Did you really need for me to get down a serving platter?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Yes, but I really thought that it was in that cabinet, so I'll have to think about where I've put it." Her shameless grin tells me that she isn't being completely truthful. I think that this whole thing has been just a ruse to talk to me in private. "Why don't you go out and tell everyone that it should be about twenty minutes until dinner?" she says, grin still firmly in place.

**LIVING ROOM**

I can't believe my eyes when I make my way back into the living room. Frank is holding Matthew.

"Frank, what do you have there?" I ask.

"My grandson," he replies, beaming. "I can't believe how little they start out. It's amazing, isn't it?"

"It is, Frank," I say, patting him on the back and shaking my head in dismay at the fact that Mac let him hold my son when she won't let me.

I look at Mac to see if she looks apprehensive about letting Frank hold him, but see that she's beaming with pride.

I'm so confused by all of this. I'd thought that having a baby was going to be a little work and a lot of fun. So far, it's been very little work and not much fun ... as far as I'm concerned.

Mac looks up and catches me looking at her. "I couldn't believe it when Frank asked me if he could hold him because he'd never held a baby before ... ever."

I can believe it because, until Matthew arrived, I hadn't held an infant before either. Hearing Mac tell me why she let Frank hold Matthew, I can clearly see my mother's point and I'm no longer hurt that Mac willingly turned our son over to Frank when she doesn't let me hold him.

Frank asked to hold him because he'd never held a baby before. It wasn't because she might need a break, but because she could give him an experience that he'd never had before, and Mac had happily granted his request - my mother's point demonstrated. It's in the wording.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

I left Tyler's room after tucking him in and came into our bedroom to try to sort through the new information that my mother had given me this evening.

Between what my grandmother told me last night and what my mother told me this afternoon, I wonder if, armed with this new information, I can come up with something that's the right thing to say or do so that I can help Mac through this 'blue' period.

The master bedroom door is open, and I hear Mac and my grandmother talking in the hall. I perk up an ear to listen.

I'm certain that I've missed part of the conversation, but I don't think that I've missed so much that I can't follow it as they continue to talk.

"No, we're headed into the nursery. He's been fed. I just like to rock him before putting him to bed at night. I know that the books say that he's too young for a routine, but I'm trying to find something that will let him know that it's bedtime when he _is _old enough to start a routine," Mac says.

"I know that this is a lot to ask, but I hope that you'll indulge an old woman. I'd love to rock him in the rocking chair that I used when I rocked his grandfather," my grandmother requests in a pleading tone that will make it hard for Mac to turn her down.

If Mac agrees, she'll be free for the next three hours or so until Matthew wakes up for his next meal. If Mac says yes, I'm going to take my first step in getting my wife back tonight.

"It takes only a few minutes for him to fall asleep. So, if you really want to, I don't see why not. I can come back in a few minutes and put him in his crib," Mac offers.

"If you think it's necessary, but I really would like to tuck the little guy in tonight," Grandma says, practically begging.

"Well, I guess it would be all right," Mac says with a little hesitancy in her voice.

**A FEW MINUTES LATER **

I waited a few minutes for Mac to turn the baby over to my grandmother before stepping even closer to the door so that I could hear Mac coming down the hall.

"I have the baby monitor, so if you need anything, just say it out loud. I'll hear you through the monitor." I hear Mac say from what must be the doorway of the nursery.

Now or never, Rabb, I coach myself. I take a deep breath and step into the hall.

"Mac, good, I was coming to look for you. Could you please come into the bedroom for a minute? I need to talk to you about something."

I turn and walk back into our bedroom, not giving her a chance to say no, and I wait for her to enter.

"Close the hatch, please," I say to her after she steps into the room.

She obliges my request. After closing the bedroom door, she asks with some trepidation, "Harm, what do you need to talk to me about?"

"Me, mostly," I say, making eye contact with her

"Harm, what's wrong?" she asks worriedly.

I can hear fear in her voice and see it in her eyes. I don't know what she thinks that I'm going to say, but I'm sure that I'm not going to say whatever she's expecting.

"This may take me a few minutes to say, so let's have a seat on the bed so that we can be comfortable," I suggest.

I sit on the end of the bed first. I think that her first instinct is to run out of the room, but I reach for her hand, and she relents and sits down next to me.

"Mac...I - I don't know where to start." I reach for the baby monitor that she's clutching in her hands and place it on the bed behind us before I begin again. "I don't think that it's a surprise to you that I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I miss you being in here, sleeping beside me." I see her fear fade and concern replace it. "When you're lying near me, I can feel you breathing. I can reach out and touch you. I love you. I need that." Her hand comes up, and she places her palm against my cheek. "I need to know that you're here...that you're okay. So, will you sleep in here with me tonight?" I ask pleadingly.

"Yes," she says without hesitation or reservation.

I don't know if I should keep going or stop for tonight.

I've never been the kind not to jump in with both feet, so, after I turn my head and place a kiss in her palm, I move to my next concern.

"There's more." Her eyes are focused on mine. "I've got this feeling that something's bothering you, and I need to apologize to you for not making you feel emotionally safe or secure enough in our relationship for you to talk to me about it." I cup her face in my hands. "I need to tell you that I love you. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Her arms slip around my neck. "I love you, too...so much," she whispers in my ear as she holds on to me.

My arms slip around her, and we stay in the embrace for a few moments in silence before I feel her begin to pull back. She looks into my eyes and says, "I'm going to get ready for bed now."

**FIVE MINUTES LATER**

I've moved the baby monitor to her night table, turned down the covers, turned off the overhead light and climbed into bed before she emerges from the bathroom.

She climbs into bed, turns off the last remaining light in the room and, to my surprise, she rolls over next to me. She places a soft kiss on my lips before she begins to nestle into my side ... the way we slept before she got pregnant.

I happily wrap my arm around her and start to get settled in for a good night's sleep when she asks, "Was there anything else that you wanted to say?"

"It can wait," I reply with a sigh.

"Tell me now, please?" she begs.

I'm reluctant to address my last concern. I'm not sure about having this conversation now, but I sometimes don't exercise the best common sense, especially when I'm tired.

"I don't question your capabilities, Mac." I feel her body tense. "I don't want to help with Matthew because I don't think that you can handle the job. In a way, I'm jealous because you're his mother. You carried him for nine months. You gave birth to him. You're nursing him. I'm his father. I don't have any of those things going for me. I don't want to wait until my son is Sami's age to start a relationship with him. I want one now. I want to experience having a baby along with you. Does that make sense?" I say, hoping that she understands how I feel and doesn't take what I've said the wrong way.

"Yes," she sobs. I feel a spot of moisture on my chest. She's letting her tears flow freely.

"Please don't cry, Mac. I'm not angry with you. I just needed for you to know how I feel," I say, rubbing my hand up and down her arm.

"Let's get some sleep. The little guy will want to chow down again pretty soon," I add, trying to lighten the moment.

I feel her nod against my chest. I place a kiss in her hair and close my eyes, hoping that, for both of us, sleep comes quickly, and, for her, the morning looks brighter.


	51. Chapter 51

**PART SIX**

**MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME **

**0525**

**MAC'S POV**

Last night, Harm opened up about how he's been feeling and, suddenly, I didn't feel so alone.

Though I didn't share my feelings with him, it seems that we're both experiencing some form of post partum issue. However, we've each been dealing with it in a different way. I've been withdrawing, pushing away those who love or care about me. He's been feeling left out and trying to find his place in Matthew's life at a time when, by nature, I supply most of his needs, so he's been trying to do whatever he can to get time with him.

I got up and fed the baby during the night, but I returned to bed after getting him back to sleep. Now I've been lying here for the last nineteen minutes, snuggled against Harm in the same position that we slept in before my stomach got too big.

I wanted to wake him, but he needs his rest, and it won't be long now ... only five more minutes until his alarm clock will sound his wake up call.

In the quiet of the morning, I find that I've missed this - him. The warmth of his body is comforting. The beating of his heart in my ear is like a song, the lyrics saying, 'It's okay. I love you and I'm here with you.'

I'm glad that he was the one who opened up first. Though, in doing so, I know that he returned to work with memories of only the birth of his son, the first time that he held him and getting a 'shower' from him during a diaper change - hardly enough memories for being home for the first two weeks of his son's life, and I'm responsible for that. I could've ... should've let him have more than that. However, neither his words nor his tone last night were blaming or resentful.

I know that it took a lot for Harm to voice his needs, especially to make the first move and, after only one night of sleeping in our bed with him, even in three hour shifts, I'm feeling less tired, and that's giving me a clearer head to think about what changes I need - I _want_ to make to give Harm time with his son.

**0530**

The alarm starts echoing in the room.

I lift up and move across him to shut off the noise. I slide back and stop when my face is near his. I lower my lips to his. When our lips touch, his arms come around me and he gently pulls me down to him.

The kiss becomes more than the good morning peck that I'd intended, but it isn't a kiss of desire, but love and, when it draws to a natural close, I'm sorry for the loss of contact.

"That's the way to wake up in the morning," he says, his voice husky with sleep.

"I'd forgotten how good it feels to be this close to you," I reply with a sigh.

"Yeah, I love our son, but he was in the way, so to speak, for the last few months," he says with a grin.

I return his smile. "I guess I should let you up so that you can get your run in before breakfast."

His arms tighten around me. "I think I should stay right here with you this morning until I _have_ to get up."

"Well, I don't think that you should get out of your routine. It's too hard to get back in the habit."

"I don't know about that ... I think you're one habit that I'll have no trouble picking back up," he says before kissing me again.

"That's another reason why you should go for that run ... it's too soon for that," I say after his lips leave mine while pushing myself up off his chest, allowing him to move freely.

"I'm going ... I'm going," he says as he rolls me over onto my back, him following me. "After one more ... " he says before his lips descend onto mine.

When he's finished administering another loving kiss, he pulls his lips away and says, " ... kiss" before getting out of bed.

**KITCHEN**

**1222**

Harm's good mood this morning was contagious, and I've felt better all morning than I have in weeks.

With Sami and Matthew napping, Harm's grandmother and I have decided to have tea.

We'd just finished making our tea and are sitting at the table in the kitchen when the phone rings.

I get up and make my way to the cordless phone.

A few minutes later, I'm placing the handset back on the base. "That was my friend, Peggy. She has a son just a month older than Matthew," I say as I turn to walk back across the room to take my seat at the table.

"Is everything okay?" Grandma Rabb asks me.

"As far as I know," I answer as I approach the table.

"Pardon me for butting in, but you just look so ... " Her words trail off.

"Distracted? She asked me to lunch tomorrow. I'm just trying to figure out what she wants to ask me," I say, thinking about the conversation with Peggy.

"You said that you were friends with babies close to the same age. Maybe she just wants to have lunch ... keep in touch," she suggests.

"I would think that, except that she said that she wanted to have lunch tomorrow to run something by me so that I could ask Harm about it," I say as I sit back down in my chair and pick up my cup of tea.

"She didn't give you any inkling of what she wanted to discuss with you or how it involves Harm?" she asks.

"None," I reply, shaking my head.

"If she wants to discuss something with you, you might need to give your friend your undivided attention. I'd be happy to watch Matthew for you so that you don't have to take him with you," Grandma Rabb offers.

She's right, but I have to turn her down. "That's very nice of you, but -"

She cuts me off. "But you aren't ready to share him yet. Don't worry. I understand."

"No I'm not _ready_ to share him, but I have to go back to work on Monday, so I need to start letting other people take over part of his care soon. Last night, Harm made me see that I haven't been sharing Matthew even with him. I think that I should do what I can to make that up to him before I let anyone else take care of Matthew. However, if you think that you might like to spend some time with him ... how would you like to watch him in the afternoons for the week that I'm back at work?"

"I'd be delighted, but who'll be watching him in the mornings?"

"Well, I'm hoping that Trish will do it."

"Why do you say hope, dear? I'm sure that she'd be thrilled to do it."

"I don't know about that. She's been so good to me, you know, welcoming me into the family, but I've been a real pain in the neck these last few weeks. I haven't let her have any time with her grandson, either, and I've been really pig-headed about making Thanksgiving dinner, too."

"I'm sure that you'll find that she doesn't hold a grudge. I've known her for a long time, and she's forgiven me a number of times." She's smiling.

"So, you think that an apology and asking her to watch her grandson in the mornings so that she doesn't have to give up too much time in her gallery will get me out of hot water?"

"If not, ask her to bring a side dish or dessert for Thanksgiving dinner." She laughs, and I join in.

It feels good to laugh again.

"I'll stop by to see Frank after I pick up Abigail and Ty from school. If he'll pick up Sami from preschool for me tomorrow, I'll have time to stop by the gallery to see Trish before I meet Peggy for lunch."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2110**

The bedroom door isn't completely closed, and I push it open with my foot to enter with a fussy Matthew cradled in my arms.

"Harm," I get out before he jumps off the bed.

"Is he okay?" he asks as he approaches.

"He's fine, just hungry. I was wondering if you'd like to feed him before I take him to his room to rock him to sleep."

Harm rubs his index finger up and down one of Matthew's little arms. "I would if I could."

"I expressed milk earlier so you can. If you'll take him for a minute, I'll go get the bottle for you."

He reaches for Matthew, but hesitates. "Are you sure about this?" he asks.

"I think that it's time that he got to know his father, don't you?" I say softly.

"Absolutely," he replies as he slips his hand under Matthew's head and lifts him from my arms.

I stop in the doorway and look back at my husband who's cradling his son. It's a sight that brings tears to my eyes.

I turn to go get the promised bottle and hear Harm say to Matthew, who's becoming more vocal about wanting his meal.

"I know. I know. You'd prefer to be fed directly from the original source, but taking the bottle gives you and me time together, baby boy."

I smile. I'm doing the right thing. They need each other as much as I need them.

**A SHORT TIME LATER**

After I'd brought in the bottle, Harm asked me to stay.

I sat on the bed next to Harm and watched as our son resisted the bottle twice before hunger won out and he began to suckle from the bottle on the third attempt.

Matthew has just let out a nice burp and his eyelids are heavy with sleep.

"I think it's your turn," Harm says.

I nod in response and reach for my son. Then I stand and start to move towards the door.

"Mac, are you going to sleep in here tonight?" he asks hesitantly.

"I was hoping that you'd let me sleep in here again tonight," I answer, smiling.

He offers me a wide grin. "Then I'll see you in a few minutes."

**TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2007**

**VINNIE'S BISTRO**

**1208**

**MAC'S POV**

My morning was a little crazy. In addition to getting everyone ready and taken to school, I needed to get myself and Matthew ready for a day of running errands and meeting Peggy for lunch.

The errand that I was most worried about was my stop to see Trish, but that visit turned out to be fine. I entered her office and offered to let her hold her grandson. I'm not sure that she heard a word I said after she had him in her arms.

When Matthew voiced his need for a meal before I could leave the gallery with him, Trish offered to keep him while I met Peggy for lunch since I'd brought a bottle of breast milk for easy feeding in public. I wasn't sure about her keeping him at work, but she reassured me that, for the short time that I'd be gone, he'd be fine with her in her office.

If I was going to be leaving him with her next week, I couldn't think of a logical reason why I shouldn't or couldn't leave him with her for a couple of hours.

It was one thing to say 'okay' to leaving him. It was quite another to actually leave without him. The struggle with saying goodbye, even if only for a couple of hours, is the reason why I'm eight minutes late to meet Peggy for lunch.

I enter the restaurant and start to scan the dining area.

It takes only a moment for me to find Peggy since it appears to be a slow day for business. Peggy sees me, too, and waves me over.

**RABB HOME**

**1525**

I'm exhausted!

Starting with taking everyone to school, I spent almost the entire day out of the house. After that, I went to see Trish and then met Peggy for lunch. I picked up Matthew from Trish after lunch, and then I was on my way to pick up Tyler and Abigail from school. My last stop was to pick up Sami from Frank at the Burnett home.

I put the minivan into reverse to back out of the Burnett's driveway, thinking about getting home and putting my feet up for a few minutes, but the moment was ruined when my internal clock reminded me that it was almost time to start dinner.

I'm exhausted. I enter the house behind the children with Matthew in his carrier, and my nose and ears are met with a wonderful aroma wafting through the house and someone singing.

I send Tyler and Abigail to put up their school things and to begin their homework, reminding them that they want it out of the way early tonight so that they can spend time with Mattie when she arrives. I ask Sami to go to her room and play quietly while her sister does her homework so that I can start dinner because Daddy will be home soon.

After I take a moment to put Matthew in his crib, I head to the kitchen to investigate the smells that are already emanating from there.

**KITCHEN**

"I thought I heard you come in," Grandma Rabb says to me as I enter the kitchen.

"Yes, it was most of the group - just need Harm and Mattie home to have a full house," I say, taking a deep breath to inhale the pleasant smells in the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind, dear, but I'm not used to so much 'relaxing,' and it was driving me a little stir crazy, so I decided that I'd kill two birds with one stone, as the old saying goes. I'd cook dinner as a thank you for you inviting me here and cure my boredom at the same time," she explains.

"You should've come with me to have lunch. It would've been good for you to get out of the house," I reply.

"I appreciate that you invited me to go, Sarah, but you were meeting your friend who had something that she wanted to talk to you about, so I thought that it would be best if I stayed here. Besides, I kind of enjoyed the peace and quiet, if you know what I mean," she says with a laugh.

"Yes, I do know what you mean ... " I say with a smile. " ... but I still wish that you'd have come. Maybe she would've listened to any advice that you might have given her."

"So your lunch didn't go well?"

"No, and don't get me wrong. I am sympathetic to her situation, but I don't think that her plan is going to help."

"If you don't mind my asking, what is her situation?"

"She thinks that her husband is going through a mid-life crisis and she wants me to talk to Harm about selling his Corvette to her. She thinks that, if she buys Dan a shiny red sports car for Christmas, he'll drive it around, thinking about her, and everything will be fine."

"And you don't agree?"

"No, but, as she very angrily pointed out, I don't know her husband well enough to know if it would or wouldn't help."

"What was your advice?" she asks while stirring something in the pot on the stove.

"I told her that she should talk to her husband." I pause. "Basically, I told her the same thing that you told me when I voiced my concerns about Harm to you." The irritation at the memory of Peggy's tone with me at lunch has me wanting to quickly change the subject. "Enough about my lunch ... what are you cooking for dinner that smells so wonderful?"

"I figured that, with Mattie coming in late, she may want something to eat, so I made vegetable soup because it reheats well."

"I never would've believed that it was vegetable soup ... the house smells like a bakery."

"Then you smell the bread that I baked as well, my dear."

"Well, it smells wonderful, and I can't wait to taste it."

A couple of moments pass before I catch on to something that she said about what she's made for dinner. "Wait a minute ... to make homemade bread, don't you need yeast?" I ask.

"Yes, why?" she replies.

"Because we don't have any ... " I trail off when I see a mischievous smile break out on her face.

"No, you didn't, but I do know how to go to a store." She must be reading my thoughts because her next sentence answers my yet unspoken question. "Don't worry. I didn't hitchhike. I called on Frank." She's smiling at my relief.

Grandma Rabb and I continue to talk until Abigail enters the kitchen to have her homework checked.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2125 **

**HARM'S POV**

The time change took a toll on Mattie, and she said her good nights along with my grandmother just minutes after Tyler went to bed.

Before Mac comes in from the nursery, I've reconciled my disappointment that she didn't let me feed Matthew tonight like she did last night.

Mac enters the bedroom and begins to speak while she's closing the door.

"I checked on Mattie after I put Matthew in his crib. She's asleep."

"I think that she's suffering from, not only the time change, but crashing after the adrenaline rush of coming home, seeing us again and meeting her new baby brother," I say with a smile.

"That's probably true. I know that I'm glad that she's home." She puts the baby monitor on her night table before speaking, moving the conversation in a new direction. "With you coming home only long enough to change and eat some soup before having to go to the airport, I didn't get to tell you about my visit with your mother this morning or my lunch with Peggy."

"What did you talk about with my mother?" I ask a little apprehensively.

"I went to the gallery to apologize for being a little short with her lately," Mac explains.

"Is everything okay between the two of you now?" I ask, hoping that they're on better terms with each other.

She comes around to my side of the bed and gives me a quick peck on the lips before answering my question.

"Yes. I let her hold Matthew, and she was putty in my hands." She's smiling mischievously.

"Tricky, but smart," I say, praising her for her ingenuity, which reminds me to ask, "Did you ask her about watching Matthew next week when you start back to work?"

"Your grandmother volunteered to watch him, but I thought that all day with him might be a little much for her, so I think that I worked out a compromise. I've set it up so that your mother will come over here and watch Matthew until she needs to leave for the gallery. Then your grandmother will take over until one of us gets home. I also recruited Frank to take over shuttling the children back and forth to school and preschool so that neither one of them will have to do that."

"I'll bet that my mother is here until at least one of us gets home," I respond with a chuckle.

"You don't think that she trusts your grandmother with Matthew?" she asks in a confused tone.

"She trusts her, but my mother isn't going to give up one second with her grandson unless ... at the moment, I can't think of any reason why she'd leave, Frank either, for that matter," I say with a chuckle.

"There won't be a problem if your mother and grandmother spend all day together, will there?" she asks as she moves towards the bathroom, presumably to change for bed.

"No." I keep my answer short because she's about to enter the bathroom.

"Your mother had a little practice with Matthew today. I left him with her for ninety-seven minutes while I had lunch with Peggy," she says, raising her voice a little so that I can hear her from the bathroom.

"How did that go?" I ask curiously.

"Matthew and your mother did fine. I, on the other hand, had a hard time leaving him and, tonight, I couldn't bring myself to let you give him a bottle because he'd already had one today."

Knowing why she didn't let me feed Matthew this evening makes me feel better.

"But you did it, and you had a nice lunch with your friend, right?" I ask.

"Not exactly," she replies as she exits the bathroom, now ready for bed. Then she continues, "I did leave Matthew with your mother, but my lunch with Peggy wasn't that nice. She thinks that Dan is going through a mid-life crisis, and she spent most of lunch telling me the reasons why she felt that way. Then she spent the rest of it asking me to talk you into selling her your Corvette so that she can give it to Dan as a Christmas present to "cure" him."

"She wanted you to talk me into selling my car?" I say like a question.

"I told her that, as far as I knew, it wasn't for sale, but I'd tell you that, if you wanted to sell it, she wanted to buy it," she says before slipping into bed.

I wait until she's snuggled up to me like we've been sleeping these last few nights before I say anything, but, when I do speak, it's a question for her.

"Do you want me to sell it to her?"

"Do you really want to know what I want you to do with it?" she asks.

I nod to affirm my question.

"Peggy did have one good point today when she was trying to tell me why I should get you to sell it. We have four young children, so the 'Vette is in the garage more often than not. She said that she'd be doing you a favor by taking it off your hands."

She's starting to sound irritated, so I decide to try to get her to the point so that we can move on. "So you want me to sell the car," I state.

She lifts her head off my chest and looks me in the eye. "No, what I want is for you to get it out of the garage and use it every once in a while. I want you to take me to the gallery in it on Saturday night and, when Peggy asks you, I want you to tell her that the car isn't for sale."

"I love you," I say after I give her a kiss.

"I love you, too," she replies with a dazzling smile.

She returns her head to my chest, and we lay together until we fall asleep.

**THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2007**

**THANKSGIVING DAY**

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**MID AFTERNOON**

**HARM'S POV**

Sami, who's been fidgeting on my lap for most of the last thirty minutes, decides that she's had enough of the Thanksgiving tradition of men watching football while women cook dinner.

"Football is boring! I want to go in and be with Mommy," she says with a pout.

"Well, Mommy's very busy cooking our dinner right now, and she has Grandma and Gee Gee helping her, so I don't think that she needs any more help today," I reply, knowing when I say it that it isn't going to be enough explanation for Sami.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Mattie asks.

"Nemo ... " Sami says excitedly before her face turns into a pout. " ... but Daddy and Grandpa are watching dumb football."

Knowing that there's only one television in the house and that a game is on, Mattie offers a solution.

"Come on. You can watch 'Finding Nemo' on my laptop ... as long as you promise not to touch it ... not one button."

"I won't touch it," Sami says.

"You promise?" Mattie asks.

Sami is nodding her head. "Promise."

"Abigail and Tyler, do you want to watch the movie, too?"

A moment later, Mattie has the children following her off to her room to watch a movie.

"Mattie is a really good big sister," Frank points out.

"Yes, she is, and she's a wonderful daughter, as well. I've really missed her," I say sadly.

"It must be tough on you, having to share her with her father."

"It is ... and, last night, she told us that she doesn't think that she should come out here for Christmas. She thinks that she should stay with her father."

"I know that Mattie's father isn't in the best of health, so I'm sure that she feels quite conflicted about staying there or coming here. I wonder if he can travel ... because, if he can, maybe, in order to have Mattie here for Christmas, you could put up with him. I mean, what's the point of having a guest house if you don't use it?" Frank suggests.

"Good point, but I've sort of already invited someone," I whisper to Frank to be sure that no one in the kitchen overhears.

"Who?"

"Mac's uncle," I answer.

"Well, we've got a guest room or two. We can put up someone over there so that you can invite them all here ... if you want to, I mean."

"I'll have to talk to Mac about Tom coming ... then I'll have to find out if Tom can travel," I say, mostly thinking out loud.

"Let me know if you need for me to do anything," Frank says before mentioning that the team that he's been rooting for just scored another touchdown.

"I'm going to get something to drink. You want anything, Frank?"

"Yeah, bring me a glass of whatever you're having," he replies, his eyes glued to the game.

**KITCHEN**

I start to enter the kitchen, but stop in the doorway to observe the three generations of women - three generations who have all had a Rabb man as a husband, working together to make the Thanksgiving meal as they talk, following each other as they move from topic to topic.

"Where's the cinnamon? Matthew is such an adorable baby," my mother says. Mac opens a cabinet and passes the cinnamon to my mother.

"He is. I think that he looks like Harm, but Harm says that he looks like me," Mac replies.

"I'll bet that it feels good to have Mattie home," my grandmother says before lifting a spoonful of something to taste it. "I think this needs more salt, but old taste buds can play tricks on you. So, someone needs to taste this and see if it does or not."

My mother is closer to my grandmother, so she reaches for the spoon, opens her mouth and takes a taste. "Yes, it needs a little more salt ... maybe a pinch of pepper, too."

"It is wonderful to have Mattie home. I wish that she didn't have to go back on Sunday. I knew that I'd missed her, but I didn't realize how much until I saw her on Tuesday night," Mac says, replying to the statement made a couple of moments ago.

It's wonderful to see that these three women, who were raised in three radically different environments, can work together so remarkably well.

The baby monitor on the counter comes to life.

"It seems that Matthew is ready to join the festivities for a little while," my grandmother says.

"I'm sure that he's wet and hungry," Mac responds.

"That's what they do best at four weeks old," my mother adds with a laugh.

"Harm," Mac calls out, not aware that I've been standing in the doorway, watching them.

I step into the kitchen. "Yes?"

"I wish that my husband came that fast when I called him," my mother jokes.

"I was on my way to get Frank and me something to drink when she called my name," I say emphatically. I don't want them to think that Mac has me trained or something.

Mac points to the baby monitor. "Matthew's awake. Would you mind going to change his diaper if he needs it? And I promised Mattie that I'd let her feed him once a day while she was here. Since we're in the middle of all this and I have a couple of bottles ready, I think this would be a good time. You can supervise her feeding him. You know, make sure that she holds the bottle correctly and burps him. You know how to do it - unless you don't have time."

"Sure I have time. I was just going to get something to drink for Frank and me, and watch the game."

"You go see to Matthew. I'll bring in something for you guys to drink in a few minutes, dear," my mother says to me.

I believe that's the mother's equivalent of: 'You're dismissed.'

"Aye, aye," I say as I turn to leave the kitchen.

I head for the living room before reporting to the nursery for diaper duty to tell Frank that I was kicked out of the kitchen, but that Mom said that she'd bring us something to drink in a few minutes.

**DINING ROOM**

**DINNER TIME**

**MAC'S POV**

We've all gathered in the dining room for the feast that the three generations of Rabb women, if only by marriage, have prepared.

As everyone takes their seats around the table, I have a sense of pride and accomplishment, not only in the meal that I helped to prepare, but in the family that's mine and who have gathered on this day to give thanks.

Mattie and Tyler have both told me that they've talked to the girls about our tradition of letting each person give thanks for something, and they both assured me that the girls have something to say at dinner. According to Mattie, after the movie was over, Sami practiced what she was going to say when it was her turn.

We begin at the head of the table, making Harm the first to speak. "I'm thankful for the food that was prepared with love and the people who are here to share it with us: my wife, my children, my parents and my grandmother. Thank you for being my family. I love you all."

I'm sitting to Harm's right, but nod to the first person to his left, Grandma Rabb, to go next.

"I'm thankful that my grandson's wonderful wife invited me here to join their family for the holidays this year. I'm having a wonderful time ... and I'm thankful that it's warmer here." She says the latter with a chuckle.

The pattern is established as Trish, the next person to Harm's left gives thanks. "I'm thankful for my wonderful husband and that my son found someone to be happy with and give me grandchildren ... and I'm thankful that my beautiful grandchildren are all healthy."

Frank speaks next, echoing the sentiment in Trish's comments.

The children go after Frank, starting with Mattie, who's thankful that she was able to come and enjoy this time with us, but she also offers up thanks for getting to spend time with her father.

Tyler is thankful that he passed to the next grade, that he got sisters that he likes and that his momma is okay now that his baby brother is out of her tummy.

Abigail goes next and is very precise in her words. "I'm thankful that I got a new place to live and that I'm living with a momma and daddy who love me and my sister."

I get choked up. She didn't really call us momma and daddy, but from her words, she certainly does see us in those roles and she knows that we love her. That means so much to me that I feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes, but I keep them at bay. There's no reason for tears when I have such a wonderful family. I can't believe how much my life has changed since I married Harm. In fact, I can't believe how much it's changed since just last Thanksgiving.

"I'm thankful that I have a new momma and daddy who love me because I love them," Sami says proudly, bringing a smile to my face.

I'm the last one to speak. "I'm thankful for the love of my husband and the life that we have together." I get a little choked up, but I continue, "I'm very lucky and grateful to have all of you as my family." I look at each one of my family who's sitting around the table and smile at each one in turn. Then to lighten the mood, I say with enthusiasm, "Now, let's eat. I'm starving."

"Her appetite's back. That's something else to be thankful for," Harm says, teasing me.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2110**

I enter the bedroom with a fussy Matthew in my arms.

"Harm?" I ask tentatively.

He raises his head from what he's reading.

"I was wondering, since you don't have to work tomorrow, if I nurse him now, would you put him to bed and take the night feeding?"

He looks confused, so I attempt to ask in a different way.

"Since your grandmother and your mother helped me with Thanksgiving dinner, I managed to nurse him all but once today when Mattie fed him with your help, so I don't think that he'll be getting too many bottles in one day if you answer the baby monitor tonight."

"You mean it?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I do. I'm exhausted. So, if I nurse him now, and you put him to bed and answer the baby monitor, I can get at least six hours of uninterrupted sleep."

"Where's the monitor?" he asks, not holding back his excitement.

"In the nursery ... I figured that you could pick it up when you take him to his crib."

"I can do that," he says with a grin before lifting up the book that he was reading when I entered, presumably to continue to read while I feed Matthew before he takes him to put him in his crib.

I look at him, wanting to ask him something else, but I have trouble getting out the words. However, with Matthew getting more restless with wanting to eat, I quickly muster the courage.

"Harm, are you reading something relative to a case?"

"No, why?"

"I was just hoping that you weren't too busy to sit with us." I look towards the headboard, hoping that he'll understand what I'd like for him to do.

I don't know why it's so hard for me to ask him for his help or support, especially when I know that he'll gladly give it. He said as much a few nights ago.

I was lost in thought and didn't see him move, but when I hear his question, "Are you ready?" I focus and find that he did understand. He's sitting up with a pillow or two behind him, leaning against the headboard with one leg off the edge of the bed so that I can easily settle myself in front of him.

I get into bed, and he brings his leg onto the bed beside mine as his arms come around me. After four weeks of practice and a hungry baby, it takes only a few moments for me to get Matthew to latch on to my left breast, and then I lean back against my husband's muscular chest.

After a few moments of silence, I force myself to say what I need to say to him.

"It isn't that I didn't want to talk to you ... it's that I didn't know how to explain that, for as happy as I am to be your wife and a mother, I wasn't happy." I feel his lips place a kiss on my temple. "I didn't want you to think that I had any regrets about us or that it had anything to do with you, because it doesn't ... didn't."

"So you're feeling better," he says softly so as not to disturb our son.

"Yes." I pause, wondering how much he needs to hear in order for him to know that he doesn't have to worry about me any more. "I'm sure that part of what I was feeling was hormonal. With the hormones and fatigue, I think it snowballed into something monumental inside my head, and it left me feeling so overwhelmed and alone."

"What's changed?"

"Abigail calling me Momma for one thing, and Sami's reaction when I picked her up from preschool ... but the really big one was you talking to me ... you opening up about what you were feeling. Those things made me realize that having a baby has an effect on the entire family, though in different ways. Then, there was today ... cooking with your mother and grandmother ... having our family around the dining table. I just couldn't sit there with our family around the dinner table, giving thanks for having each other and not realize that I wasn't alone any more."

A silence falls over us that lasts until Matthew has finished eating. "It's your turn, Dad," I say before positioning myself to get up. Harm then drops his leg off the edge of the bed, allowing me to get up easily. "I'm going to get ready for bed."

After handing Matthew off to Harm, Harm kisses me softly. "Welcome back, Mrs. Rabb."

I smile. "Did you miss me, Mr. Rabb?"

"I did," he replies, nodding his head.

I smile warmly, and he offers me a sweet, loving smile before leaving our bedroom to put our son in his crib.

I head to the bathroom to change for bed, thinking that I didn't see a shade of blue all day long.

A few minutes later, I'm climbing into bed. I lay my head on my pillow and pull the comforter up over me.

I think that I can honestly say that the darker shades of blue are gone, but I also acknowledge that I may see a glimpse of blue once in a while as my life continues to change and my family grows, but with Harm and the rest of my family for me to love and to love me in return, I'm ready to face the future.

Smiling, I close my eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.


	52. Chapter 52

**AN: **Based on the first posting of this story at another site, I know that someone will have a question about the time line of this chapter, even if no one asks me the question, so I want to address it before the first chapter and get it out of the way. Yes, the standard or rule of thumb is six weeks off of work after having a baby, though a physician could/might allow a woman to go back to work sooner -I know one woman who was back after two weeks, I was back at four, and recently someone I know returned to work after four months. So, this story is going to follow the exception rather than the rule.

Okay enough from me ... on with the story.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - TOP OF ****YOUR ****GAME**

**PART ONE**

**MONDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 2007**

**JLS**

**0710**

**MAC'S POV**

This morning, I arrived at the office earlier than was previously my customary report time of 0745, even though the duty day doesn't start until 0800.

I was on the phone daily with Petty Officer Coates when I was sitting around the house on medical leave, waiting for Matthew to arrive. However, once Matthew had arrived, I'd been able to easily put the office out of my mind until last week.

The three days prior to the Thanksgiving holiday, I called Petty Office Coates once a day and spoke to my XO, Commander Joseph Winston, to discuss the state of our office. Nothing in those talks gave me the sense that I had anything to come in and clean up before my replacement arrives on Thursday morning for a briefing on the command and a rehearsal for the change of command ceremony that will take place on Friday.

The reason why I'm at the office so early this morning is because, after yesterday's tearful farewell to Mattie, I was dreading leaving my children after more than a month at home, especially my precious baby boy. To make it easier, I decided that I had to leave the house before Harm. That way, I could tell myself that I was leaving Matthew in his father's care, which I'm now comfortable in doing.

I realize that I was deluding myself, but it was effective because I was able to get out the door with minimal distress, and the tears lasted for only a few blocks.

It helped that, as I drove away from the house, two thoughts kept rolling around in my head: 'You're back in your old uniform. It's a little tight through the bust, and the skirt is snug around the hips, but it's your original size six uniform.' When that one started to fail, I switched to, 'Only five more working days until you can stay at home with your children every day.'

As I pulled into my parking space, I looked at the building. It looked the same. This was going to be easy, I thought as I got out of my car and headed for the double doors.

I enter and approach the desk that serves as our quarter deck, and the young petty officer standing duty jumps to his feet, but I wave off the formality. "Welcome back, Ma'am," he says with a sincere smile.

"Thank you, Petty Officer. I hope that you had a wonderful Thanksgiving."

"I did, Ma'am. Thank you."

"Am I the first one to arrive today, Petty Officer Smith?"

"No, Ma'am, you're the second one. Petty Officer Coates was here at 0645 to make sure that everything was in order for your return, Ma'am."

"Then I suppose that I shouldn't keep her waiting any longer. Have a good day, Petty Officer."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

As I head towards the elevator, the feeling of excitement of facing new challenges takes control of me. That feeling, along with a sense of adventure, are the reasons why I wanted to join the Corps. It was, at the time, a way to leave the bad childhood experiences behind and be part of something bigger. The Corps became my family and has been that for the last twenty years, but being part of the Rabb family and having children has made me see a different side of life. Suffice it to say that I understand Harriet's decision to leave her "JAG family" and the Navy for her "other" family.

Perhaps I should take the stairs today. Harm would say that a good way to burn off nervous energy is to exercise, so I pivot on my heel to adjust my course towards the stairs.

As I climb the stairs, I wonder how long I'll perform that 'turning on my heel' move that I just did after I retire. I don't notice doing it at home. I wonder if it's something that comes automatically when I put on the uniform.

As I reach the top of the stairs and start to cross the bullpen, my thoughts are on how I was dreading coming here this morning, but now how eager I feel to get down to business.

Having reached the doorway to the outer office, I address my yeoman with a cheerfulness that surprises me. "Good morning, Petty Officer Coates."

I can see that I've startled her as she jumps up, knocking over her cup of coffee in the process. "Good morning, Colonel MacKenzie."

"I didn't mean to startle you, Coates," I say apologetically.

"I just wasn't expecting you this early, Ma'am," she says, trying not to look down at her desk to see how much damage her spilled coffee has done to her work.

"I wanted to get an early start. I want everything ready to go for the new CO when he ... or she arrives on Thursday. It looks like you might be busy for the next couple of minutes ... " I say, glancing momentarily at the mess of pooling coffee on the papers on her desk. " ... but when you're ready, bring me the past six weeks of case summary reports, all the current case reports and the trial schedule."

"Is there anything else, Colonel?"

"Not at the moment, Coates. Carry on," I say, releasing her from her stance so that she can clean up the mess

"Yes, Ma'am," she says with some relief that she can finally assess the damage to the papers on her desk.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

As I sit in the chair behind my desk and sink into it in a way that's familiar and welcoming, I tell myself to savor every minute of my last days in this chair.

I once told Harm that I wanted to go out like Butch and Sundance. At the time, I was talking about how I'd like to die in some kind of action, but things have changed since that day in the desert.

I now see that retiring at the end of this week, after having been in command of a new concept for a JAG office with an excellent record, as a 'blaze of glory' in its own way.

As I sit here, I'm sad to realize that this is the start of the final days of my career, but I'm also looking forward to celebrating the twenty years that I've spent in uniform.

I briefly wonder if I'll be this reflective and nostalgic all week before a knock on the door disrupts my thoughts.

"Enter," I respond to the knock.

Coates opens the door and enters my office. "Ma'am," she utters as she raises her hands, each containing several file folders. "Which would you like first Ma'am, closed or current cases?"

"If I'm not going to look like an idiot at the morning staff meeting, hand me the stack of current cases and the trial schedule, and put the other stack down on my desk. I'll get to them later."

"Yes, Ma'am," she answers while handing me the stack that I requested. After she's placed the other stack on my desk, she asks, "Will that be all, Colonel?"

"Yes ... wait ... before you go, I want to thank you, Jennifer ... " I say, using her first name to reduce the formality. " ... for helping me run this place, keeping my schedule, handling what you can so that my time is free for more urgent things. With the arrival of a new commander and my retirement both at the end of this week, things might get a little crazy around here, so I wanted to say it now before time got away from me and I forgot to say it. So, thank you for your hard work and dedication. It's been greatly appreciated."

"I appreciate that you recognize my contribution, Ma'am, but your thanks isn't necessary. It's been my pleasure to serve in your command, Ma'am."

"Well, thank you, Jennifer, but seeing you come from being Harm's prisoner to being my yeoman - you've really turned your life around, and that's made it an honor to have had you in my command and I'm proud to have served with you."

"I wouldn't be here without you ... well, you and the captain, Ma'am. I don't know if I've ever thanked you for that, Ma'am."

"We'd better stop all this thanking or we aren't going to get any work done, and we don't want to turn over a sloppy office, do we? Any word on who we'll be turning it over to yet, Coates?" I ask, returning to military formality by using her last name to get back to business.

"Nothing official, Ma'am."

"Unofficially?" I inquire as I take a file folder from the stack of current cases that I've placed on my desk in front of me.

"I got a call last Wednesday morning from General Cresswell's yeoman. I was asked to make arrangements for a duty driver to pick up Commander Turner and to make temporary lodging arrangements for him."

"It isn't unusual for someone to take leave to check out the area before starting at a new command and, with Turner being married, a few days to investigate housing options or to look for a place to rent would certainly make your assessment logical. The fact that he hasn't contacted Harm since he got into town, even a call to say hello, is another reason to think that he isn't here on vacation. I'd say that you may be right, Coates. Your new boss may very well be Commander Turner."

I thought of more evidence to support her case, but I'm distracted by the thought of Sturgis taking over for me. I'm just not sure how I feel about that.

After quickly assessing that it doesn't matter how I feel about it if he _has_ been chosen, I'm thankful that I'm not the one taking over a command from Sturgis. Our styles are just so different.

"Well, whether it's Turner or not, we've got things to do to get ready for his or her arrival, so let's get to it. I might as well jump in with both feet. So, bring in the end of month reports, too, if they're ready," I request of Coates.

If my replacement is Sturgis, he's very into the administrative side, so I'll need to double check that everything's ready for him.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll get them right away."

"And, Coates, when Commander Winston arrives, I want to see him ASAP, which means before the staff meeting."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," she says cheerfully as she exits my office.

I don't know which of us seems to be enjoying my return more ... me or Petty Officer Coates.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**0737**

"Enter," I reply to whoever's knocking on my door, knowing that, according to the time, it should be Commander Winston.

The door opens. "Colonel MacKenzie, Coates said that you wanted to see me."

"Yes, Commander, come in. Go ahead and have a seat." I wait for him to sit in the chair in front of my desk before I continue. "I've begun to read through the case summary reports ... " I say as I make a wave of my hand over the stack of file folders on my desk. " ... and I _will_ finish reading them, but I don't have time to read all of them before the meeting. So, I want you to bring me up to speed on current cases and anything else that you feel is pertinent so that I don't have any surprises during our staff meeting."

"Most of the cases we've got right now are easy stuff, simple assault and petty theft among them. However, we've got a murder case that's still unfolding, the murder of Corporal Messings."

"I read that summary ... the accused is a Corporal Ballinger."

"That's the one, Ma'am."

"Anything keeping it from going to trial?" I ask.

"Not that I'm aware of, Ma'am. I think that Major Richards is just trying to be thorough."

"The report says that there's a witness, so let's make sure that we get an update from the major at the staff meeting."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

"Okay, anything in the area of personnel or morale issues that I should know about before we head to staff call?"

"I think that everyone is getting a little antsy about who'll be the new CO and XO and how it will affect them, but, other than that, I'm not aware of any issues in the office."

"Then let's head to the conference room for the staff meeting."

**1149**

The buzz of my intercom pulls my attention away from another report that I feel that I need to read. Even though I believe that, between the staff meeting and my XO's briefing, I've been brought up to speed on all the pending cases, I want to leave this assignment with no loose ends and no reason for the next CO to question my abilities to command or as a Marine when he - or she - takes over this office.

I reach over and depress the button on the box. "Yes, Coates," I say in a flat tone, the work having dampened my earlier cheerful and enthusiastic mood.

"Captain Rabb is here to see you, Ma'am."

"Thank you. Send him in," I say with surprise because I wasn't expecting him before releasing the intercom button.

My door opens and in walks my tall, handsome husband. Before I have time to process any thoughts about why he might be here, he lifts his arm, and I spy a brown paper bag dangling from his hand.

"I knew that you'd be trying to catch up and wouldn't take time to go out and get yourself something to eat, so I brought lunch to you," he says softly.

I stand and start around to the front of my desk to greet him.

"That was very thoughtful of you. I don't think that anyone would believe me if I told them that you're a sweet, thoughtful and gentle man," I say with a playful smile.

He turns and closes the door. "You can't say things like that when the door's open. I've got a reputation to maintain," he replies with a grin.

"Now that the door is closed, is it okay for me to do this ... " I ask the question, but give him no time to respond before placing my lips on his. I pull back, but my face is still close to his. " ... or would that tarnish your reputation, too?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Having a pretty woman kiss you is never bad for a man's reputation," he says with a smile. This time, he gives me no time to respond. His lips are coming towards mine and his arms slip around me. He pulls me into him, and our kiss becomes something more than a thank you for lunch, but less than a prelude to bed.

Our lips part, our arms release each other and it takes a moment for either one of us to form a thought.

Harm manages to find his voice first. "I brought you a turkey club from Stoli's Deli. I didn't know if onions would still bother you, so I had them put them on the side," he says, offering me the brown bag.

"I haven't had one of those for six or seven weeks. Is there something for you in the bag?" I ask, my cheeks still warm from our kiss as I reach for the proffered lunch.

"Yeah. If you have time, I thought we could have lunch together."

I move towards my desk with the bag in my hand, but stop and turn to look at him. "I'll make time to have lunch with you," I say and add a wink for good measure.

It takes only a minute for us to get seated across from each other at my desk with our sandwiches out and, after removing the wrapper from my sandwich, I reach for the little side cup of onions, but put it back down, opting not to add them to my sandwich.

"Don't want to risk it?" Harm asks, pointing to the onions before picking up the bag of baked chips that he'd bought for us to share.

"Onions never bothered me. It was your son who didn't like them, and since I'm breast-feeding, I don't want him to get onion-flavored milk if he doesn't like it, especially because it's such a pain to have to express milk at work. It would bug me if I had to throw any of it out because it upset his stomach or he just flat out refused it."

"So I take it that you've already had to pump milk this morning and it didn't go well," Harm states more like a question.

"It isn't so much that it went badly. It's that I don't see how other working moms do it." He looks confused. "Let me tell you about my morning and maybe you'll be able to understand. "I last fed Matthew at 0620 this morning, which means, on his current eating schedule of every three hours, give or take a few minutes, if I were home, he'd be nursing again around 0930. Well, at 0910, I was still in a staff meeting, and my breasts started to hurt because they were so full. At 0930, I was in my office relieving the pain in my breasts when it occurred to me that I actually have it pretty easy. I'm the boss here, so I can come and go pretty much as I please without waiting for a break or lunchtime, and I have an office for privacy, which means that I don't have to use a public restroom to pump milk. Then I started to add it up. I'll have to do it again after lunch and again mid-afternoon. That's three times a day ... every day ... on a normal workday, but if I had to work late, then I'd probably have to pump a fourth time. Add that to the time that I don't get to spend with him, and it's hard."

I'm afraid that I sounded a little whiny with that last statement, but I miss him so badly that I don't really care if I did.

"I can't relate to most of that, but I think that I understand what you mean. However, I can relate to the part where he isn't with you. I miss him, too," Harm replies with a slight pout on his face.

"So I gathered ... you called the house every day about this time after you went back to work to check on him when I was home with him." I lean back in my chair. "So how many times have you called home today with me at work, too?"

"When you were home, I was calling to check on you _and _him," he says defensively.

"So, how many times have you called the house this morning to check on him?" I ask again.

Our eyes are locked in an intense gaze.

"Just twice," he answers in a defeated tone, but his tone changes. "Which, according to my mother, is half as many times as you've called to check on him," he declares victoriously.

"I haven't called four times," I say defensively.

He smiles. "My mom said that, starting at 0700, which was a call to make sure that I'd been able to leave the house, you've called every hour on the hour, except at 0900. After hearing about your morning, I know that the only reason why you missed 0900 is because your staff meeting went over and then you needed to express milk."

My eyes dart around the room, trying to find something to focus on to avoid looking him in the eye. I knew that I'd called, but had I really already called four times? I don't want him or Trish to think that I don't trust her with Matthew, but I miss him. "I'll try to call less often."

"My mom wasn't upset that we were calling. In fact, she was actually very understanding that we miss him. So, you can call again now. It's almost noon," Harm says understandingly.

I take a bite of my sandwich, pretending that I don't need to call, but we both know that I'll be picking up the phone as soon as I swallow this bite.

**1215**

I was distracted from enjoying my lunch because I was wondering how I was going to make my noon call with Harm in my office, but now that I've spoken to Trish, with Harm's blessing, and found that Matthew is fine, I find it hard to concentrate on my lunch because, every time I start to take a bite of my sandwich or grab a chip, when I look up, Harm is staring at me.

"What?" I finally ask.

"Nothing," he replies calmly.

"It must be something, because you've been staring at me pretty much from the moment I hung up the phone after checking on Matthew."

"I wasn't staring ... I was studying you."

"Studying me ... why?"

"I do think that Matthew looks like you."

"No he doesn't. He looks like you. You just want him to look like me. Otherwise, you failed to follow through on one of the finer points of our deal." He looks puzzled. "He was supposed to have my looks and your brains, remember?"

He smiles. "Hey, you can't hold me accountable for it being backwards."

"Well, tell me, counselor, who do you think is culpable in this situation if it isn't you ... me or the doctor?"

I've got him in the proverbial corner where no answer is really a good one, and he knows it. Verbal exchanges like this used to be something that we used as a way to stimulate each other without physical contact.

I can almost see the wheels turning in his head, trying to come up with "the answer" to put him back on top.

I smirk at him. I think that I'm going to stay on top as I pop the last bite of my sandwich into my mouth, waiting for him to give a response.

"I think that ... " He lifts his eyebrow as if he's got an answer before saying, " ... I should head back to my office."

I laugh.

"It's certainly good to hear you laugh ... see you smile," he says lovingly.

"I must say that it feels pretty good to be doing it again," I reply with a sigh.

"I really should let you get back to work, and you won't do that while I'm here," he says, practically pouting.

"I probably wouldn't get anything done, but I like the company," I say with a touch of sadness while he stands, putting his hands on my desk for support and bending forward at the waist, causing me to look up at him.

"I like your company, too," he says before dropping low enough to quickly meet my lips with his before he pulls back. "I'll see you at home," he says as he stands upright and makes a move for the door.

I admire the view of his backside as he leaves my office.

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**NCIS**

**1315 (local) and 1615 (Washington)**

**HARM'S POV**

I hang up the phone from what I think is a strange call from General Cresswell and hit the button on my intercom box.

"Burns, round up Lafferty. I need to see him ASAP."

"Yes, Captain Rabb, right away, Sir," she says in response before I let go of the button, breaking the communication link between our desks.

**1330 (local) and 1630 (Washington)**

A quick rap on my door is followed by the door opening a crack and Major Lafferty asking, "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Yes, Major, enter," I respond in a commanding voice.

He walks in measured steps like he's marching to a cadence that only he can hear - must be a Marine thing - until he stops in front of my desk at attention.

"At ease, Major Lafferty," I say as I stand. "I got a call fifteen minutes ago from General Cresswell. He's ordered you to report to your new duty station tomorrow instead of Monday. You'll report to Colonel MacKenzie's office at Joint Legal Services at 0800."

"Do you know the reason for the change in my orders, Sir?"

"The general didn't give me any details, but he did say that he wanted a Marine on a team that's investigating some recently reported accusations. You'll get the details tomorrow morning."

"Captain, isn't Colonel MacKenzie your wife, Sir? She isn't in any kind of trouble, is she, Sir?"

"I don't think so, Major. She's been on maternity leave, so I don't think that she'd be able to get into the kind of trouble that would draw the attention of the Judge Advocate General in half a day. However, whoever or whatever is at the core of your case, it's big enough that it went through HQ."

"That makes it sound serious, Sir."

"Yes, it does, Major." I pause. "Since you're being whisked away early, you'll need to use the rest of the afternoon to finish up anything that you thought that you had the rest of this week to complete."

"Yes, Sir."

"Dismissed."

As Major Lafferty makes his exit, I have to wonder about the case that he'll be investigating at JLS.

I hope that it doesn't involve Mac. With her retirement on Friday, it could postpone her retirement until the investigation is completed. If it doesn't involve Mac personally, I hope that it can be wrapped up quickly. I'd hate for Mac to retire with a black cloud hanging over her command, thus casting doubt on her leadership abilities.

**RABB HOME  
NURSERY**

**1850**

**MAC'S POV**

When I got home, Trish and Frank were still here, entertaining Sami while Ty and Abigail were doing their homework in the living room, which was keeping them out from underfoot in the kitchen where Harm's grandmother was making dinner.

After greeting the three children who were in the living room, I went to the nursery to check on Matthew. He was fine, just the way that I'd been told every time that I'd called home today, but I felt better when I could see him for myself. Any thoughts that I had of lifting Matthew out of his crib and spending some time with him before Harm got home ended when I heard Sami squeal that her daddy was home.

It seemed only polite to invite Harm's parents to stay for dinner since there was plenty and they'd been here all day, taking care of our children.

Matthew woke up a few minutes before dinner was to be served. Harm and I almost fought over who was going to go get him. The urge to run into the nursery and pick up Matthew the second his whimper came through the baby monitor certainly taught me empathy for what Harm must have been feeling since he's been back at work, but there was an understanding in Harm's eyes when he stepped aside to let me go to the nursery instead of him. In hindsight, I should've let him go since I knew that Matthew shouldn't be hungry yet. When I got to the nursery, I discovered that I'd been right. Matthew's displeasure was being caused by a dirty diaper that needed to be changed.

I returned with Matthew in his carrier a few moments later so that Harm could get at least a peek at his son before dinner.

After Harm had taken a look at Matthew, who was almost back to sleep, he said, "I guess he just knew that his momma was home and wanted to say hi." He said it with such sadness that I can translate it into, 'He never wakes up to say hi to me.'

I don't want Harm to feel badly and I think that it'll make him smile. "I should've let you go. He needed only a clean diaper before he was ready to go back to sleep."

Harm smiled and then laughed, his eyes almost dancing at the notion that he'd gotten out of dirty diaper duty.

**1940**

When Matthew woke up after dinner, he was ready for his meal, so I got to sit quietly and nurse him in our bedroom while Harm and the children cleaned up after dinner and said goodnight to his parents.

Now, I'm looking down at the soft wisps of Matthew's dark hair as he sleeps in his crib, knowing that I need to leave the nursery to help Harm with the bath and bedtime routine for our other children, but it's hard to leave the side of his crib.

I hear Harm and Sami coming down the hall.

"I want Pooh jamas tonight, Daddy," Sami announces.

"Let's get your bath water ready and get you in it, and then I'll go see if Momma can find them for you."

"Okay," she says cheerfully.

As energizing as being at work this morning made me feel, right now I couldn't be surer that I'm making the right decision to retire. I want time to spend with my children.

I spend another few moments looking down at our sleeping baby boy before turning to leave the nursery.

I reach the doorway at the same time that Harm appears there. "Are you okay?" he asks me, the concern in his voice evident.

"I'm fine. What made you ask that?"

"You've just been a little quiet. I thought that something might have happened at work after we had lunch that was on your mind."

"No, everything's fine ... " There's something about the look in his eyes. " ... unless you know something that I don't."

He diverts his eyes from mine and says, "I don't really know anything."

That tells me that he may not know everything, but he knows something.

"What is it, Harm? If you know something or need to tell me something, just say it."

He takes my hand. "It may not mean anything. I just have a funny feeling about it."

"About what?" I ask, slightly irritated by his beating around the bush.

"It's just ... this afternoon General Cresswell called and ordered Major Lafferty to report early to JLS." I hope that he can see the 'so what does that have to do with me' look on my face as he finishes his statement. "Lafferty is to report to your office at JLS at 0800 tomorrow morning."

"Since I didn't request him, did Cresswell tell you why he was to report to my office tomorrow instead of on Mondy when his new duty rotation starts?" I ask, now a little concerned myself.

"The general told me only that he wanted Lafferty there because he wanted a Marine on an investigation team." He pauses to let the information that he's just given me sink in. "Mac, if you need a lawyer tomorrow ... call me."

"I can't think of any reason why I'd be the center of their investigation, but, if I need a lawyer, I wouldn't call you."

"Why?" he asks, sounding wounded by my dismissal of him as prospective counsel.

"For one thing, I don't need my husband to ride in to my rescue."

"I've been your lawyer a lot longer than I've been your husband, so call me. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for you to have a lawyer with a vested interested in keeping that nice looking six of yours out of the brig," he says with a grin, trying to lighten the moment.

"And why would that be? Don't have an extra lactating mother around to feed your son?" I say, tilting my head back towards our sleeping baby.

"I've got a more selfish reason than that." I give him a questioning glance. "I don't want to have to sleep alone ... and I've found that I really like sleeping next to you," he says sheepishly before kissing me softly on the lips.

"Daddy, is Momma find my Pooh jamas?" Sami yells from the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"We've got our hands full tonight without worrying about things that we don't really know anything about now. You go get our daughter out of the tub before she looks like a prune, and I'll go get her Pooh pajamas. I'll worry about work in the morning at the office."

We nod in agreement, but before we set out on our tasks, we both move to give each other one more quick but reassuring kiss.

I head off in the direction of the girls' room, thinking that maybe there's something about the Ballinger murder case that's drawn HQ's attention.

I'll go in early, get a copy of the complete file and have it read before Lafferty arrives at my door.


	53. Chapter 53

**PART TWO**

**TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 2007**

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**JLS**

**0745**

**MAC'S POV**

I came in early to read up on the Ballinger case, but I had just enough time to ask PO Coates to get a copy of the file from Major Richards before I was told that I had a call from General Cresswell.

The call with Cresswell having just come to an end, I push a button to change to a new line before dialing Harm's cellphone, hoping to catch him before he goes into his building and loses the signal.

If I don't reach him now, I won't be able to speak with him until after his meeting, but I may be tied up by then, trying to sort out what's been going on in my absence.

My identity given away by caller ID, Harm answers on the second ring with, "Hey, Mac."

"Hey, I might have to hang up abruptly because I don't have much time. Bud's already here, and Major Lafferty should be arriving soon, too, but I thought that you'd have a more relaxed morning if you knew that it isn't me who's going to need a lawyer."

"If not you, who are they investigating? And did you say that Bud's there?"

"My XO, and Bud's here to investigate the accusations."

"Accusations of what?"

"It seems that, over the weekend, a compliant was phoned into the sexual harassment hotline, accusing Commander Winston of sexual harassment."

"What does Commander Winston have to say about the accusations?"

"No one has spoken to him, yet. Bud is meeting with the alleged victim at the moment."

"Has anyone told you why, as his CO, you weren't informed sooner?"

"Yes, once Bud saw me, he placed a call to General Cresswell. I got off the phone with him just seconds before I called you. He apologized for not informing me sooner, but he said that he was unaware that I'd returned from maternity leave. So, to his knowledge, the accused party was currently in command, and he didn't want the commander to have a chance to sway witnesses or invent any cover stories if the allegation is true."

"Makes sense, but this can't be easy for you, even if you aren't the accused. You should be making preparations for the incoming CO and shuffling papers to keep busy while you're focusing on your retirement, but with this hanging in the air -"

"I know," I say, cutting him off. "I could be retiring as the first and last commanding officer of the JLS. I doubt that the joint legal office concept will get much support when this news gets out, and without support to ensure funding, the program will end."

"I don't think that you need to take the weight of a program washing out on your shoulders because, even if the commander is guilty, this kind of thing can happen in any command."

"I guess that I didn't mention that the alleged victim is a Marine."

"And the accused is Navy …then, you're right. It isn't looking good for the 'joint' part of the concept."

"At the risk of sounding selfish, the timing of this couldn't be worse. Whether the charges are true or not, if I don't get this figured out by Friday, I'll be retiring with a cloud hanging over my command."

"So, Marine, what are you going to do about it?"

Until I hear Harm's question, I hadn't thought about doing anything myself, but when his words reach my ears, I stand up with an air of confidence befitting the Marine that I am before responding, "I'm going to get off this phone and find out what's going on! I've got only four days to get to the bottom of this case."

"Let me know if there's anything that I can do to help," he says as I hang up.

"I love you, too," Harm mutters as he closes his phone before walking into the NCIS building.

**JLS CONFERENCE ROOM**

**MOMENTS LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

I knock on the door to notify the occupants that someone is about to enter before I turn the knob and enter the room with a notepad in hand.

"Colonel, were you looking for me, Ma'am,?" Bud asks.

"Yes, Commander. This is Major Lafferty. He was scheduled to transfer into this command on Monday, but the general had him report early so that he could assist you on this case. Since I'm already here, I thought that I'd sit in on your interview with Major Richards."

"Colonel MacKenzie, I have to object to that, Ma'am," Bud says.

"Why would you object, Commander Roberts? The compliant came through Washington and is being investigated by JAG HQ, which means that I'm not the convening authority. This is only an interview, not a meeting with a client. I see no problem with me being present during this interview – strictly as an observer. Do you, Commander?"

"Yes, Colonel, I believe that, as the commanding officer for both parties involved, Ma'am, your presence in either this interview or during the questioning of Commander Winston isn't in anyone's best interest, Ma'am," Bud replies to my question.

No longer believing that it's in the best interest of my command to sit in on the interview, I concede to Bud's objection.

"Commander Roberts, since you feel that my presence could hinder your investigation, I'll leave you two to complete your interview. Carry on, Commander," I say before exiting the conference room.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**NINETY MINUTES LATER**

Once I'd returned to my office and I'd had a few moments to get over my initial shock of having had Bud throw me out of the conference room, I was able to come up with a way to at least stay "in the loop" concerning this situation.

Since ordering Coates to inform Lt. Commander Roberts that I wished to see him after he's finished conducting his interviews, I've been shuffling papers and signing duty rosters - except for a break to pump my breast milk for Matthew - waiting for Bud's arrival. I'm going to ask Bud to supply me with a copy of the report that he'll be sending to General Cresswell, along with his recommendation on whether or not charges should be filed.

There's a knock on my door before it opens.

"Colonel ... " PO Coates begins. " ... Commander Winston would like to see you, Ma'am."

"Send him in, Petty Officer."

Coates steps inside and opens the door fully, allowing Commander Winston to enter before she leaves my office.

"Have you been interviewed by Commander Roberts yet?" I ask as he comes to attention in front of my desk. "At ease, Commander."

"Briefly, Colonel…I ended the interview until I could secure counsel," he replies while obeying the order given and changing his stance.

"So, you're here to ask me to assign you an attorney so that your interview can resume?"

"Not exactly, I've come to ask you to represent me, Ma'am."

"I haven't been in the courtroom in two years. Why would you want me to represent you in this matter? Is it because I'm a Marine or because I'm a woman?"

"Both of those, and because, in the time that I've served here with you, I've found you to be open-minded and fair when reviewing cases and, based on some of the questions that Commander Roberts asked me before I shut down the interview, I need someone who'll listen to me. I'm not guilty and I need someone who can be objective in the face of incriminating evidence. I think that you'll do everything in your power to clear my name, not only because I'm innocent, but because proving that fact is almost as important to you as it is to me. I need you to save my career, but, in doing so, you'll save the reputation of the JLS and yours as a commanding officer."

"Have a seat, Commander," I say, mulling over what he's said.

He's right about the possibility existing that I could save the JLS program and myself from getting a black eye if I can prove his innocence, but…what if he's guilty?

"You know, by making an example of you by prosecuting you myself, I could very well have the same face-saving outcome. I'd paint you as an officer with a character flaw ... that it was just a matter of time before you crossed the line … or perhaps you've done this before, and the woman or women just didn't turn you in. Or, more to the point, being part of this command had no bearing on your conduct."

"The only problem with that approach, Ma'am, is that I'm not guilty. I've never said or done anything improper to or with Major Richards."

"You mentioned incriminating evidence…so why should I believe that you're innocent when, by your own admission, there's evidence that supports Major Richards' claims?"

"That's the tricky part, Ma'am. If I were the one investigating this and not the accused, I'd want to lock me up and throw away the key, too, but I am the accused and I know that I didn't send those emails to Major Richards."

"So they won't be on your computer…end of story."

"No, Ma'am, it isn't that easy. I said that I didn't sendthem to Major Richards. However, the one or two that Commander Roberts let me read sounded familiar. When it dawned on me that I thought that I might have written them, I shut down the interview."

"You wrote the emails, but you're innocent," I say in that 'please give me a break' tone, complete with an eye roll.

"Ma'am, I believe that I did write them, but I did _not _send them to Major Richards."

"You'll have to explain that to me," I state with some sarcasm.

"The gist of the two emails that I read sound like ones that I wrote, but it was a few weeks ago, so I can't be sure that they're exactly the same, but I didn't send them to Major Richards. I wrote them to a woman who I met on line that I was hoping to meet in person. I don't know how Major Richards got them, but I didn't send them to her." His face drops in defeat. "I've defended my fair share of cases, even ones like this, but when it's your ass on the line…I can't think straight. I need someone to help me prove that I'm innocent."

I'm not sure if I simply believe him or if his defeatist tone is getting to me, but I find myself wanting to defend him.

"If I take your case, Commander, am I going to have any surprises? No matter how long ago, have you ever had an office affair or a relationship with a junior officer, even if it was a one night stand or a weekend fling?" I ask, pausing to gauge his reaction. "Because, if you have and charges are filed against you in this case, the prosecution will use it to show that you have a pattern of this kind of behavior. Even if you're innocent this time, your prior poor judgment would work against your credibility, and you could be convicted this time, innocent or not."

"Ma'am, I married my college sweetheart during my senior year. When she divorced me three years ago, I was devastated. It took me a full year before I could wrap my head around the fact that I was divorced - that I was single again."

"You said that she divorced you? Was the reason why she wanted out because you'd had an affair?"

"No, Ma'am. I was faithful to my wife."

"Then why did your marriage end?"

"I realize that you're asking me as part of information gathering to either make your decision on whether or not to represent me or to prepare my defense, but, Colonel, it's still painful for me, so I don't really want to go into too much detail. In a nutshell, when I met her in college, she changed my life. On our second date, she had me thinking about marriage, children and white picket fences 'til death do us part. We got married at the start of my senior year. She was a year behind me. By her senior year, she was expecting our first child."

His pain is near the surface, and I can tell that he stopped to collect himself before he continues.

"Two more children and many years later, I came home from work one night and, out of the blue after dinner, she told me that being my wife had caused her to give up too much of herself. She said that she was tired of being Mrs. Winston and that she wanted a divorce so that she could find herself again and have a life of her own."

The buzz of the intercom interrupts our meeting. I reach over and push down the button. "Yes, Coates, what is it?" I'm short with her, but not because I'm angry with her, but because I really want to get back to my conversation with Commander Winston.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I hate to interrupt you, Ma'am, but Commander Roberts would like to know when you'll assign counsel to Commander Winston so that he can complete his interview with him."

"Coates, have Commander Roberts go to the conference room. Commander Winston and I will be there in a few minutes so that he may finish his interview."

"Yes, Ma'am." I hear from Coates before I remove my finger from the button, breaking our line of communication.

I look up, and Commander Winston has a small smile on his face. "Does this mean that you're taking my case?"

"Yes, Commander, that's what it means. Our first step is to meet with Mr. Roberts to complete your interview. It'll help us find out what kind of evidence they have ... or think they have against you, if nothing else."

"Yes, Ma'am," he says with confidence as he stands up from the chair that he's been occupying in front of my desk for the last several minutes.

As I reach for my pen and scan the top of my desk for the legal pad that I had earlier, I hope that this interview doesn't take too long. I'd hate to have to ask for a break in order for me to pump my milk again.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**SEVERAL HOURS LATER **

I hear a knock on my office door.

"Enter."

The door opens.

"Colonel, Lieutenant Commander Roberts would like to see you, Ma'am," Petty Officer Coates informs me.

"Send him in."

"Yes, Ma'am."

A few moments later, Bud is crossing over the threshold into my office.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I've spoken with General Cresswell. The general believes that there's enough evidence to move ahead with an Article 32 hearing and, Ma'am, he'd like to have it take place ASAP."

"So, General Cresswell would like this to be handled swiftly. I wonder if that's for the benefit of the JLS program or so that Commander Turner doesn't have to walk into a mess on his first day," I say, but it was more of a thought voiced than a comment directed at Bud.

"I don't know, Colonel, but I'm sure that _Captain_ Turner would appreciate any help that you can give him in assuming this command. I'm sure that you've left him with a tough act to follow, Ma'am."

I know that Bud is sincere in his praise, so I respond to his compliment.

"Well, thank you, Bud." Then I state my surprise at Turner's promotion. "_Captain _Turner…I had no idea that he'd received a promotion."

"It was very recent. In fact, Cresswell gave him the word about his promotion and then gave him his orders to this new duty station like he did with Captain Rabb, Ma'am."

I'd like to have Bud take a seat and just talk to him…get caught up on things back at HQ and with him, Harriet and their children, and spend some time looking at the latest pictures of each other's kids. However, I've got a client, and business needs to be discussed at the moment.

"Bud, you said that Cresswell believes that there's enough evidence to move this matter to an Article 32 hearing. Is that your belief as well?" I ask, getting back to business.

"Ma'am, the emails alone could probably win the prosecution's case. If Commander Winston is innocent…"

"I know. I'll have a tough time proving it. I don't know how or even if I can prove it, but I think that he _is _innocent."

"I should have at least a partial disclosure packet on your desk before the end of the day. Good luck, Ma'am," he says before turning to make his way out of my office.

He aleady has his hand on the doorknob when I speak. "Bud ... " He turns around. " ... why don't you come to the house for dinner tonight? You'll get a home-cooked meal and you can show off the latest pictures of your family. No business talk - just friends catching up with each other. Harm would love to see you, and you'd not only get to see Ty and the girls again, but you'll also get to meet Harm's grandmother and the baby. What do you say?"

"I'd like that, Ma'am. Thank you."

**DEN **

**RABB HOME**

**2140**

I think that I hear Matthew cry, but it couldn't be because I left the baby monitor in our bedroom with Harm, and the nursery is too far away from the den for me to be able to hear him cry without the monitor.

I shake my head, trying to get what I'm sure must have been a cry created by my own wishful thinking out of my head. I think that I wanted Matthew to need me so that I could walk away from this stack of papers on the desk.

For the most part, this is a 'he said, she said' case…except for the emails.

I must need a break because I thought that I heard Matthew again. It wasn't a cry this time, but the little coo sound that he makes when he's content.

"Mac."

I lift my head to see Harm coming through the door. He's dressed in only a pair of sweat pants with Matthew resting on one shoulder. Our son looks so much smaller when Harm holds him.

I stand and start to move towards them.

"I didn't want to pull you away from your work, but when he gives up on trying to get milk out of my shoulder, he'll start to cry again. I'll feed him. That isn't a problem. I just thought that I should check with you before I used a bottle."

I know that it was hard for him to come in here because he really likes to spend time with Matthew, too, especially when the other children are asleep and it's just the two of them.

"I'll come back to this in a bit. Come on. I think there's a compromise."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

When we entered our bedroom, Harm knew what I had in mind, and we exchanged no words as the three of us settled into a position of support and comfort for the three of us.

Matthew needed no encouragement to latch on and begin to take nourishment, which calms his movements, his hand coming to rest against my breast.

I lean back and, when my back makes contact with Harm's chest, he knows that the baby and I are settled in. His embrace tightens a little, and then he puts his chin on my shoulder in order to look down at our son.

As the quiet moments pass, the tension starts to leave my body, and I lean more heavily against Harm. Matthew wiggles, nuzzling himself in closer to me.

I wish that I could freeze the moment and stay like this forever, I think as I run my hand gently over Matthew's hair.

Relaxed and with a peaceful feeling flowing through me, I hate to break the silence in the room, but I want Harm to know how much I appreciate him sitting here with us.

"Thank you. Being here with you and him is exactly what I needed this evening," I whisper so that I don't startle Matthew.

Harm turns his head and places a kiss in my hair near my ear before whispering, "You're welcome, but this is as much for me as it is for you. I know that I should be used to the idea by now since he's more than a month old, but I still look at him and find it hard to believe that he's really here…that I'm not just a dad anymore, but a father…his father."

A few moments later, Harm breaks the current silence in the room by whispering into my ear, "You did good. He's perfect."

"You didn't do so badly yourself," I whisper back, not wanting to upset Matthew and have his cries ruin this magical moment.

The quiet returns to the room and it stays that way until I finish nursing Matthew.

As much as I don't want to get up, I have work to do, so I let Harm do the honors of putting our now sleepy baby boy to bed.

**DEN **

**2217**

"He's out," Harm says from the doorway, causing me to look up. "So that you can get some sleep..." He lifts his hand and points towards the papers on the desk. "...is there anything that I can do to help?"

"Unless you've got a good defense strategy up your sleeve, I don't think that there's anything that you can do," I answer, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"The prosecution's case is that strong?" he asks.

"Bud didn't talk to you about the case?" I ask.

"No. You were in the room most of the time, but, when you weren't there, we talked about our children mostly. He did mention that Sturgis has been promoted to captain," he answers.

Satisfied with his answer and knowing that he wouldn't lie to me, I feel more comfortable with answering his question more precisely.

"Most of their case is circumstantial, but there's one piece of pretty damning evidence ... well, about twenty pieces, technically. They have emails that they say that he wrote to her."

"And your client says…?" he asks inquisitively.

"That he believes that he may have written them, but that he didn't send them to the victim," I answer.

"And you believe that he's telling you the truth."

"Yes, I believe him. I don't know how I'm going to prove it, but I believe him."

"And, other than these emails, they don't have anything?" he asks.

"The rest of their case is 'he said, she said.' She says that he fondled her breast when he pretended to bump into her when she was exiting the elevator and he was getting on it. His account of the event is that he wasn't paying attention. He was studying a file and did bump into her when she was coming off the elevator, but that he didn't grab or fondle her. He offered her a hand or some kind of support to be sure that she didn't fall, but that he certainly didn't touch her in a sexual way."

"I know that Winston has been your XO from the beginning, but he isn't someone who you chose to be on your staff. If you don't represent him, you'll retire on Friday having had a successful career, but if this is the last case that you're involved in before you retire, especially if you lose, it'll be the one that everyone will remember. It isn't right, but you know that's how it goes. Are you sure that you want to defend him?"

"I appreciate your concern about my career. I know that you're trying to look out for me, but yes, I want to defend him even if it puts a damper on my retirement."

"It sounds like you need to come up with a logical reason for the emails in order to get the charges dropped," Harm mumbles just barely audibly so I know that he's just thinking out loud, mulling over the avenues that he might take to defend my client. "Could it be an error? You know, some kind of computer glitch that sent the emails to the wrong address?"

"That was my first thought, but with twenty emails in three weeks... It's hard to believe that there's been a problem for that long that's gone undetected unless the only email effected was to the person who he was trying to reach, and it seems like an even longer shot that there would be a problem with just one address."

"Maybe it's a human glitch - a typo that Winston made on the very first email that he sent. If he didn't get a response, he'd keep sending it to the address that he'd entered into his address book. If he got a response, he'd probably do like most of us do and simply hit reply, never realizing that it was the wrong address. Either way, he'd never have a reason to look back at the original email address and find his error."

"That's a good one and pretty easy to check if I knew the address."

"Are you going to call the commander tonight?"

"The prosecution confiscated his computer this afternoon. I don't know about him, but I couldn't give anyone an email address without my computer. I'll see if he can access his email from the office or my computer first thing in the morning. So, if you'll give me five minutes to put this stuff away, I'll be ready to turn in for the night."

"I don't think that Matthew will let it be for the night. It won't be more than three or four hours before his Marine caliber appetite has him awake for a snack," Harm says with a chuckle.

"Make you a deal. You take the next feeding," I say as I shove my case notes back into their manila folder.

"What kind of deal is that? It benefits only one side. You get some sleep. What's in it for me?" Harm asks with a cute pout on his face.

I look up at him. "One-on-one time with your son."

Harm gives me a full flyboy smile. "Deal, but hurry up, or I won't get even a nap in before he's awake."

I smile at him as I rush to finish up so that I can go to sleep in my husband's arms tonight.


	54. Chapter 54

**PART THREE **

**WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0605**

**HARM'S POV**

I enjoy the variety of workouts that the rotation of running, biking and swimming provides, and though the moderate climate of southern California and a heated pool in the backyard allows me to swim in late November, the walk from the pool to our bedroom is another story, so I'm shivering by the time I get in here.

The lump in bed tells me that my wife is still sleeping.

With the baby monitor on her night table, an alarm is no longer necessary. Matthew's cries for breakfast will be her wake up call, so I pass by our bed as quietly as I can with my teeth chattering as I make my way to our bathroom.

**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER**

I exit the bathroom, wearing a towel around my waist to find that Mac is sitting up in our bed.

"Good morning, Beautiful," I say.

"Good morning," she responds with a shy smile and in a sleepy tone that says that she hasn't been awake long.

"Sleep well?" I ask.

"What sleep I got was okay," she says with a yawn.

"Did Matthew get you up more than usual or was it something else that kept you awake?" I ask while moving to take a seat beside her on the bed.

She addresses my concern for Matthew first. "It wasn't Matthew. He's fine."

As soon as I've sat down on the bed next to her, she puts her hands on my cheeks and places a good morning kiss on my lips that lasts a bit longer than normal before she pulls back and looks me in the eye.

The moment her lips came towards mine, my arms slipped around her, which is now a natural response when she's in close proximity.

"I love you," she says before removing her hands.

I notice a certain distant look in her eyes that makes me wonder what kept her up last night.

"I love you, too," I say, wondering if this is one of those times when I should ask questions or just give her a few minutes to tell me what's bothering her.

She rests her forehead against my chin. "My case kept me awake."

That answers my question - just wait, she's going to tell me at her own pace.

"I know that I've had tougher cases ... "

"But you've got a personal interest in the outcome of this case." I insert my assumption as to what's on her mind.

"Yes, and that's part of what's been on my mind all night. I mean, can I be sure that my personal agenda isn't going to interfere with the way that I defend my client?"

"I've never known your personal feelings to dictate the way that you handle a case. In this case, it wouldn't matter if they did because you and your client want the same outcome, and since the commander asked you to defend him, your client certainly has faith in you."

"Thank you, but I'm not sure that you can give an objective opinion."

"Sure I can. You're still dressed. My judgment is impaired only when you aren't wearing any clothes," I say with a chuckle.

She lifts her head to look me in the eyes again.

"My appointment is next week, so it won't be long now before I can show you how much I love you in the way that I'd like to right now. I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to us getting back to being intimate again," she says seductively as she puts her arms around my neck.

"Me, too," I get out before her lips are on mine.

Our passionate kiss comes to an abrupt end when Matthew's cries come through the baby monitor.

After pulling her lips from mine and releasing her hold on me, she says, "Thanks for the pep talk, but your son says that we've got to stop now."

"I'm going to have to talk to that boy about his timing," I say, disappointed that I didn't get a few more minutes of one-on-one attention from my wife as I stand to let her get out of bed to tend to our son while I get dressed.

**JLS**

**0740**

**MAC'S POV**

PO Coates comes to her feet behind her desk.

"Good morning, Colonel MacKenzie."

She sounds so chipper.

"Good morning, Coates." I say, trying to mimic her chipper mood, but missing the mark.

"Commander Winston is waiting for you in your office, Ma'am."

"Coates, make sure that the commander and I aren't interrupted," I say as I move towards my office door.

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

I open my office door and step inside.

"Good morning, Commander," I say into the room, knowing that he's in here, but not seeing him.

A fraction of a second later, he's jumping out of one of the chairs in front of my desk and coming to attention.

"I don't make my clients stand at attention, so have a seat, Commander."

His stance immediately relaxes, but he doesn't sit down.

"I wanted to speak with you first thing this morning to see if you've come up with any ideas concerning my defense yet, Colonel."

"I've got some ideas, but I need to ask you some questions to help narrow down the choices."

"When can you fit our Q&A into your schedule, Ma'am?"

"Well, since you just finished filling in for me while I was on maternity leave and you're due to rotate out of here on Monday, I'm sure that you don't have any case work pending. So, unless you have some command business that you need to complete, I'm fine with starting right now," I respond while taking out the file that Bud had given me yesterday, my legal pad with the notes that I'd made last night and a pen from my briefcase before I sit down in my desk chair.

"I came in early to handle things that needed immediate attention, so now is good for me," Commander Winston states.

"Then let's get started."

I take a moment to review the notes that I'd made on my legal pad last night before speaking again.

"I want to start with the woman to whom you said that you sent the emails that at least resemble the ones that the prosecution says that you sent to Major Richards. Yesterday, you said that you were sending her these emails to encourage her to meet you. So, if you'd never met this woman, how did you get her email address?"

He looks embarrassed as he finally takes a seat in the chair that he was occupying when I entered the room. "I answered her on-line personal ad."

"Was there a picture of her with the ad?" I ask.

"Yes," he answers, looking a little uncomfortable.

"That shoots down my theory that, by some long shot, you were emailing Major Richards by answering an ad without a photo so you didn't know that it was the major. Do you remember if you clicked on a link or typed in her email address to respond to her ad the first time?"

"I think that I clicked on her name to respond to her ad, but I can't remember for sure. If the prosecution hadn't confiscated my only computer yesterday, I could log on to see if it would jog my memory."

"You can do that after you give me copies of the emails that you say that you sent to your on-line friend."

"Those emails are personal. What would be the purpose of you reading them?"

"I understand that you feel that this is an invasion of your private life, of your personal feelings, but if you were in my shoes, you'd be asking the same questions. My purpose for reading them is to compare them to the emails that the prosecution has in their possession. I want to know if the emails are word-for-word identical."

"But I can't getyou copies of the emails. Remember, the prosecution confiscated my laptop."

"I know, but that may not be a problem. If you saved your email correspondence on the hard drive of your computer, then they have it, but, if to save space on your computer, you kept your emails with the server, then you can access your email from any computer. Have you ever used a computer here to access your email, Commander?"

"I used the one in my office this morning to write her that I wouldn't be able to email her for awhile, but, normally, that wouldn't happen. I bring my laptop to work with me so if I want to send a personal email, I normally use it, but I don't want to say that I've never done it when I might have. I'm sorry. I'm probably over analyzing your question, Colonel."

"I'm afraid that's one of the hazards of representing a lawyer. They don't know how to be a client," I say with a little smile, trying to calm my client's nerves.

"I guess it's sort of like a doctor having a doctor for a patient," he jokes.

"Something like that, so don't worry about it," I say before picking up my notepad and pen. "I figure that, if you used an office computer, you used the one in your office. It shouldn't matter, but just in case it does, I think that we should access your account from the computer in your office."

As we move to leave my office, he asks, "Colonel, if the emails match exactly, what does that mean?"

"It means that I need to find a computer geek to ask some questions. Do you know anything about computers, Commander?"

"The basics: how to turn it off and on, how to send and receive email, play games and that sort of thing, but not much else. Anything other than that, I call my son. He's a junior at SDSU, majoring in computer science. He's a real computer whiz," he says proudly.

**MAC'S OFFICE **

**AN HOUR LATER**

The only emails that were still available in his email account were from the last ten days of activity.

I sit down with those emails and pull ones from the stack of emails that were in the file as evidence that are dated within the last ten days.

After putting the two stacks side-by-side, I look at the email on top of the ones printed this morning to read the first couple of words. 'This may be ... ' is how the text begins. I look at the ones in the evidence pile and drop my eyes immediately to the text. The one on top of the email stack doesn't match, nor does the second or third. 'This may be ... ' The fourth one is the lucky winner.

I read over the two emails carefully. When I come to the end of the document, I've established that these two emails are word for word the same.

I look at the next email in the stack of ones printed this morning and begin the process of searching the evidence emails to see if any of them match the beginning, 'I wish that I ... '

I don't find the matching opening until the eighth email this time. When I finish reading the second email, I have to mark it down as being identical as well.

I continue with my task and look at the third email. 'I hope that we ... ' I find a match with email number three this time.

After reading the third email and finding it to be identical, too, I stop to mentally review the defense options from which I've been trying to select one to use in this case.

The theory that he'd typed in the wrong email address the first time had been rendered invalid when, after printing the emails, he'd logged onto the site where he'd read the personal ad. He hadn't been able to find her ad, but, after his memory had been refreshed at seeing the site, he'd been sure that he'd left a message at the site and that she'd emailed him first. He'd also been pretty sure that he'd simply clicked reply to respond to her email.

The only way that my client could be innocent now is if he's somehow been set up. But how lucky would that person have to be in order to get a response to one particular ad out of what appeared to be at least a few hundred on the web site that he logged on to today? The questions of why and who would want to set up Commander Winston have also got to be evaluated for that to be a working theory.

After comparing two more emails and finding them to be identical as well, I need to give my eyes a rest.

The breast discomfort that I'm having at the moment suggests that a good use of the time would be for me to use my breast pump.

**A SHORT-TIME LATER **

After getting some relief and getting a cup of coffee, I'm ready to get back to my task of comparing emails.

I take a sip of my coffee as I look down at the email on top of the pile that was printed out this morning.

There's something odd about this email. It's only one paragraph for one thing.

'Hi,

Something is happening here at work. I don't understand it and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I wanted you to know so that you'd understand why I won't be emailing you for awhile. They've taken my laptop. I'll explain everything when I know what's happened. I hope it's soon. I'm at work, so I have to go now.

Joe'

The date on the email is today. This is the email that he told me that he wrote to her this morning.

My first thought is: 'If he were guilty, he wouldn't write the victim a note about not being able to write to her.'

I place the email from this morning to the side in a place of it's own before looking back down at the stack on the desk. 'I think that we could be ... ' the text of the next email begins.

Once I've read yet another duplicate email, I have to wonder if the email that he sent this morning was only for my benefit.

The stack of printed emails is down to only two, but I have only one left in the ones that I pulled from the evidence file. I compare the two to the one and find the one that begins the same. After reading it to the end, I find that it's a duplicate as well.

Thinking that I must have missed an email in my quick search of the evidence documents, I look at the date on the copy printed this morning and open the file to find its counterpart.

After looking through the evidence file again and not finding it, I take a look at the date once more to be sure that I've been looking for the correct date. I also take note of the way the email begins, 'I understand ... "

I find an email that begins that way, but the dates don't match. The email is dated two days after the copy that was printed this morning, raising my curiosity.

I quickly reach for the other emails that I've looked over this morning to compare the dates on them.

In just a matter of minutes, I've found an anomaly. The emails that we printed this morning are dated one to two days prior to the ones in evidence. How is that possible? I think that it's time to track down someone with more than just a little computer knowledge.

Though Bud is very computer savvy, in this case, asking him the questions would tip off the prosecution to my possible defense strategy.

Commander Winston's computer was sent to the NCIS Computer Crimes Unit. I believe that I'll pay someone over there a visit to get the answers to my questions.

**COMPUTER CRIMES UNIT**

**NCIS**

**1139**

With directions from the receptionist, I reach the frosted glass door marked Computer Crimes Unit. I open the door to find that the door opens to just a passage that appears to be a hallway. I didn't get directions past the door, so I hope that the light that I can see at the end of the hall is where I want to go to meet with Agent Reyes.

I must travel at least eighty feet before I see any signs that this hall isn't just part of a massive joke played on anyone in search of the Computer Crimes Unit. On the right side, there are two doors, side-by-side, but with no labeling of any kind, so I travel the rest of the distance to reach the room with the light on at the end of the hall.

The room with its table and two chairs tucked under it and four other chairs lined up against a wall is reminiscent of a doctor's waiting room, but with a coffee maker and vending machines, I believe that it must be a break room.

I turn around to face the doorway to leave, thinking that I must be in the wrong place, when I see a phone on the wall near the doorway with a plaque next to it that reads: 'Please let us know that you're here. Thanks, CCU'

I move quickly to the phone, pick up the receiver and find that I'm connected immediately.

"Computer Crimes Unit, Agent Wong. How may I assist you?"

"I'm Colonel MacKenzie from Joint Legal Services. I have an appointment with Agent Reyes at 1145."

"Colonel, if you'll have a seat, I'll tell her that you're here. Since she's expecting you, I'm sure that she'll be with you shortly."

"Thank you, Agent Wong," I say before hanging up the phone.

I turn to take a few steps back to take a seat, but, as I take a step, I hear the voice of a woman coming from behind me, "Colonel MacKenzie?" I turn around to face the woman. "I'm Agent Maria Reyes."

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice, but I'm trying to wrap up a case before I retire on Friday."

The woman in her thirties seems to be staring at me like she's giving me the once-over, and I'm feeling a little uncomfortable.

As if she hasn't heard a word that I've said, she responds with, "No problem. If you'll follow me, we'll go to my office." She turns, and I follow.

After exiting the waiting/break room, she pushes buttons on a keypad next to the first door. Only a few steps in, there's a door on the right. She enters another code and, when she opens this door, the motion sensor detects her entering, and the lights come on so that I can tell that we've entered a traditional office space.

"Please, have a seat," she says over her shoulder as she moves behind her desk. "On the phone, you said that you had questions about computers or perhaps the email process. What's the problem that you've run across that's got you baffled?"

I get the feeling that she thinks that I'm here to ask her questions about how to spy on my teenager's or my husband's internet habits.

"I have a client, and the prosecution's main evidence are emails that they claim that he sent the victim. While comparing emails printed from my client's email sent folder to ones that the alleged victim provided, I found the dates to be at least a day apart and, in some cases, two days. So, my first question would be, is it possible to send an email and have it received a day or two later?"

"Yes, it's_ possible_," she says, emphasizing the word, which makes her sound skeptical. "There could be an interruption with the server's satellite transmission during the email process. For example, after you hit the 'send' button, an interruption could cause a delay in that email being transmitted to its destination. However, interruptions are usually for fractions of a second to a minute or two tops. So, though I'd have to say that it's possible, I'd have to add that I think that a delay of more than a few hours is unlikely and anything more than that would be highly improbable."

"And if improbable for one email, the odds that it would happen repeatedly would be impossible," I state.

"We don't like to use the word impossible in this unit, but I'd have to say that the odds of something like that happening are a billion to one, not impossible, but so unlikely that the human mind can't comprehend the likelihood."

"Then I have to ask, could you give me a scenario that would explain the difference in dates between the two documents when, word for word, the text is exactly the same?"

"If you told me that the dates were all just a day apart, I'd tell you to check the time on the emails. If an email is completed prior to, but sent after midnight, the received email could have the following day's date, but that wouldn't explain a two day difference unless, in that scenario, the time zone in which the email is received is by time zones a full day ahead of us."

"The sender and receiver are in the same time zone," I explain.

"Then that's not a good working theory," she states, shaking her head. "There's got to be a logical answer," she adds. I think that I can hear the wheels in her head turning. "Is your client accused of sending emails to anyone else?"

"No, why do you ask that?"

"Because, if he did a copy and paste of the text and sent it to the victim a day or two after he sent it to someone else, that would explain the date change."

"Will your search of his computer turn up something like that?"

"It will," she says as she reaches for the phone on her desk.

After lifting the receiver, she pushes four buttons, not enough to be a phone number. She must have dialed an internal extension number. A moment later, the other person must have picked up because she speaks into the receiver.

"This is Maria. I'm calling to find out if you can give me an idea of when you'll have a report on Commander Winston's computer," she says before going silent, presumably to listen to a response. After a couple of moments, she says, "Thank you," before hanging up.

After she's replaced the receiver, she looks at me. "He tells me that his preliminary report should be in Lt. Commander Roberts' hands later this afternoon. He's one of the best. If there's something there to find, he'll find it."

"Thank you for your time," I say as I stand to leave her office.

"You're welcome," she says as she stands. "I'll walk you out to the reception area."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I would appreciate directions on how to get from here to the JAG office in the building, though."

**HARM'S OFFICE**

I must have taken a wrong turn ... at least one, but after seven minutes and twelve seconds, I finally found the JAG office.

I don't know why I have all this nervous energy, but I find myself wanting to pace or tap my foot, neither of which is a particularly attractive trait for a Marine in uniform, while I'm waiting for PO Burns to notify Harm that I'm here.

"Colonel MacKenzie, Captain Rabb said that you are to go right in."

"Thank you, Petty Officer."

I'm relieved that it didn't take too long, because the urge to display some kind of nervous tic was getting stronger by the second, I think to myself as I step towards Harm's office door.

The door starts to open before I reach it, so I know that he's going to greet me.

I walk in the door to hear: "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Colonel?" coming from behind me before I hear the door close.

"I was in the building on business and, when I was finished, I wanted to see you."

"Did you get bad news about your case?" he asks as he comes up next to me.

I turn to look at him.

"No, but no good news either. I'll have to wait until I get the report on Commander Winston's laptop before I can try to solve the puzzle that was created by the answers that I did get."

"I know that General Cresswell called Director Landon and asked him to give any evidence in the Winston case top priority," Harm informs me.

"How do you know that?" I ask in surprise.

"Because Landon told Agent Reyes that he'd appreciate her moving the Winston case to the top of the priority list and to consider it as a favor to the Judge Advocate General and the CO of JLS at this morning's meeting," he explains.

"In front of everyone? No wonder Agent Reyes was giving me the once-over. She thinks that I called the general for a favor, and then I showed up at her door asking questions, too. It also explains why, without mentioning my client's name, she knew about the case. I'll bet that she thinks that I'm a real bitch. I had no idea that the general called in a favor," I respond angrily.

He gives me a quick peck on the lips.

"She could have been giving you the once-over just because she couldn't believe that there's a Marine in the Corps who looks like you. I know, when I first saw you, I had to give you the once-over ... a few times ... before I could believe that such a beautiful woman was a Marine."

I feel a slight blush come to my cheeks.

"That's why I came. I knew that you'd make me feel better. Have you had lunch yet?" I ask, my anger gone.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting you," he says with a slight pout.

"It was worth a shot. With Commander ... pardon me ... _Captain_ Turner due in at 0900 tomorrow to take over, I don't have much to do at the office. I was looking for a way to kill some time while I wait for the report that I need."

"Do you have any idea when you'll get the report?" he asks.

"A preliminary one is due out later this afternoon," I answer.

"That's why you came. If the report comes in late, you'll be working at home tonight, and we won't get to see much of each other. You were missing me," he teases before slipping his arms around me and pulling me to him, cocky grin firmly in place. "If you aren't in a hurry to get back to your office ... " He trails off, waggling his eyebrows rakishly.

"I might not be in a hurry, but you've got work to do," I reply with a grin.

He nods in agreement, but he also doesn't release his hold on me.

"If you aren't in a hurry to get back to your office, why don't you go home, have some lunch, chat with my grandmother for a few minutes and maybe, if you're lucky, you'll be able to pry that baby boy of ours out of his grandparents' hands?" he suggests.

"Maybe that's why I came. I knew that you were due to have a good idea, and I didn't want to miss it," I say with a chuckle, teasing him.

"I have one more good idea ... kissing my wife," he says before his lips descend on mine.

Our lips part a few moments later.

"Feel better?" he asks.

I don't want to stroke his king-sized ego, but I do feel better.

"Some," I answer nonchalantly.

"Then another one will make you feel even better," he says before his lips start to descend on mine again.

I quickly put my hands on his chest to stop him.

"I'm sure that another kiss wouldn't hurt, but I need to go or you won't get any work done. I don't want you to have to work at home tonight because I kept you from getting your work done at the office."

He releases his hold on me.

"Thanks for seeing me without an appointment, Captain," I say in jest.

"For you, no appointment is necessary ... ever," he says in a loving tone.

I place a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. I'll see you at home tonight."

"I'll see you there," he says, knowing that, if the report that I'm waiting for comes in too late, he'll see very little of me because I'll be in our home office working tonight.

**JLS **

**1430**

I'm standing in front of the panel of elevator buttons. I've pushed the up button three times already.

The visit home for lunch was just what I needed, but now it's time to get back to work, and I'm anxious to get back to reviewing the facts in my case.

Why is it that the elevator in a building with only three floors takes so long? Maybe I should take the stairs.

The arrival of the elevator releases me from having to make a decision.

I step into the elevator and ride it up to my floor where I exit the elevator and head for my office.

"Attention on deck," the young man standing watch announces as he scrambles to attention.

"As you were," I say, but my mind is thinking, 'I'm going to miss that'. Where else am I ever going to go where people stand up just because I enter a room? It makes me feel special.

I continue on to my office with a smile plastered on my face.

"Coates, anything new happening?" I ask in part as a form of greeting and partly out of curiosity. Maybe, as a going away present, the guilty party confessed, and they left him or her handcuffed in my office until I got back, I think as I wait for her response.

"No, Ma'am."

It didn't hurt to hope that it would happen. "Then I'll be in my office."

"Colonel MacKenzie ..." I hear as I insert the key into my door.

The voice isn't familiar to me, so I abandon opening the door to look towards the source of the voice. The owner of the voice is Major Lafferty.

"What can I do for you, Major?"

"Commander Roberts said that I should get this report to you ASAP, Ma'am. It's the preliminary report from NCIS on the commander's laptop, Ma'am."

I take the offered report. "Thank you, Major. If there's nothing else, you're dismissed."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

**AN HOUR LATER **

After reading the preliminary report several times, I've got an idea or two about how I want to proceed with the commander's defense.

If the stars are with me, I have a way to prove his innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt, but that requires that Commander Winston and I take a trip over to NCIS to see Agent Wong.

Commander Winston's office door is open, so, when I reach the doorway, I address him. "Commander, are you doing anything pressing at the moment?"

He jumps to his feet. "No, Colonel Mackenzie."

"Excellent, then get your cover and come with me. I'll fill you in on the drive over to NCIS."

"Yes, Ma'am," he agrees as he moves from his desk towards the door, reaching for his cover on the way.

**NURSERY**

**RABB HOME**

**2100**

After getting the older children in bed, I went to the den to review the report on Winston's computer to make sure that I was ready for a meeting with opposing counsel tomorrow.

Satisfied that I was as ready as I could be for the meeting, I went to our bedroom, but Harm wasn't there.

Since no one else is up, my next stop is the nursery.

From the doorway, I can see Harm leaning over the crib, looking down at our son.

I step inside and, to silently let him know that I've entered the room, I put my hand on his shoulder.

He turns slightly so that he can slip an arm around me and, together, we watch our sleeping son in his crib.

I lean into his side.

"I changed and fed him. I just put him down. I wasn't expecting you to be finished so early," he whispers.

"I got the report early enough that I'd been over it a dozen times already. The preliminary report opens the door for my theory, but I don't know if I'll get opposing counsel to dismiss the charges. However, I'm ready to make a good argument for that very thing to happen in the morning. Bud has agreed to meet with us at 0730. So, if we can resolve this matter when we meet, it'll be out of the way before Turner arrives at 0900."

"To have it resolved before he arrives would be great," he says a little too loudly, and Matthew starts to stir.

"Let's go to our room. I'll practice my argument on you while we get ready for bed," I whisper so as not to disturb Matthew again.


	55. Chapter 55

**PART FOUR **

**THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2007**

**JLS PARKING LOT**

**0725**

**MAC' POV**

As I get out of my minivan, I hear a man chuckling. I look in the direction of the laughter and see none other than Bud Roberts.

"Do you need help with anything, Colonel?"

"No, Commander, but would you be kind enough to tell me what's so funny?" I ask.

"Seeing you get out of a minivan instead or your Corvette, Ma'am. Even though I was at the wedding and saw it with my own eyes, it's just hard for me to adjust to the fact that you and the captain are together ... and have children, too!"

He's smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he says, biting his lip to keep from chuckling again.

I understand what he means. I'd certainly given up on Harm and me ever being more than friends ... right up until it happened.

"If you think that it's funny to see me get out of a minivan, you should see Harm get out of it."

"He drives the minivan?" he asks with surprise.

"Not often, but it's happened once or twice," I say with a chuckle. Then a thought strikes me. "Since it looks like you're going to be here for my retirement tomorrow, maybe I'll have Harm drive this so that you can see it for yourself," I say with a mischievous smile on my face.

With all the stuff that I have to bring with me these days, including a bag containing my breast pump, a cooler in which to transport the pumped milk and my briefcase in my hands, I close the car door with my hip.

Bud's face changes from lighthearted to serious.

"Colonel, if you don't mind me asking, are you ready for retirement?"

"The truth of it is, Bud, I haven't given retirement much thought." He looks shocked, so I quickly add, "Don't get me wrong. I gave retiring a lot of thought. I just haven't given much thought to what happens after the party tomorrow night."

"Harriet said that, at first, she felt like she was on leave, but, after a couple of weeks, it really sank in that she was never going back to JAG. She still misses it sometimes, but she says that the children keep her too busy to miss it for long," Bud says as we get closer to the building.

"Well, with the addition of Matthew, let's hope that the four children that I've got at home will keep me too busy to miss this place too much," I say with a smile as Bud reaches to open the door to the building for me.

Before I step inside, I look directly at Bud. "This morning, though, I know exactly what I'm doing ... providing you with enough information so that you won't charge my client with anything. So, are you ready to get to work, Commander?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answers before I step inside the building.

**CONFERENCE ROOM **

**0730**

We exchanged pleasant conversation outside, but now, seated in the conference room with my client sitting beside me, and Bud and Major Richards on the opposite side of the table, it's time to get down to business.

I open the case file to pull out my notes and the evidence that I prepared last night for presentation this morning.

"Commander Roberts ... " I begin, lifting the stack of emails that we printed from Winston's email account yesterday. I offer the stack of paper-clipped documents to Bud while I continue, " ... at first, you'll believe that these emails are the same as those you gave to me. However, you'll find that I've highlighted two lines, the date that the email was sent and, at the bottom of the page, you'll find the time and date that these copies were printed. You'll also see that I've put my initials there as well, making it easier for me to quickly identify the stack that's part of my evidence."

Bud takes the offered documents.

I wait a few moments for him to flip through the pages, verifying that each page is marked as I described. When he flips back to the first page, I know that he's ready for me to continue to present my case.

"Next, I'd like to ask you, Major, did you ever receive emails from Commander Winston prior to the ones in evidence?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It was probably three or four months ago when we both had full case loads. The commander was prosecuting, and I was assigned to defend a petty officer on assault charges. The commander and I couldn't seem to find the time to meet, so we exchanged emails in order to work out a plea agreement ... but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Did you have those emails that you just mentioned sent to your office email address?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Major Richards replies.

"You said that you and the commander were busy and that's why you communicated by email. Is that when, for the convenience of communicating about the case that you mentioned, you gave him your personal email address?"

"No, we used our work, you know, our military email addresses to communicate about the case." She looks confused. "To be honest, I don't remember ever giving the commander my personal email address ... " Her posture changes and her tone turns defensive. " ... but he obviously has it because he's been sending me emails."

"I realize that someone's been sending you emails, but I don't believe that it's been Commander Winston," I say, addressing Major Richards. I turn my head to address Bud. "Commander Roberts, I'm sure that you noticed that, according to the NCIS preliminary report, some pretty fancy spyware was found on Commander Winston's computer."

"I did, Ma'am, but there's no way of knowing how long that spyware has been present. His wife, while they were still married, could've put it on there."

"Not on this laptop," I say, lifting a copy of a receipt from my evidence file and offering it to Bud. "Commander Winston purchased his computer only six months ago." I have Bud's attention, so I continue, "He purchased his new laptop two months after he moved from the BOQ to a loft apartment where he lives alone. Since he brings his computer to work almost daily so that it's handy for personal use, it makes this office the most logical place for someone to have installed the spyware on the commander's laptop."

"Are you suggesting that Major Richards put the spyware on his computer so that she could send herself emails?" Bud asks in a tone that I'd call irritation.

"That's one possibility, but certainly not the only one. Since I had to take medical leave several times in the last few months, Commander Winston undoubtedly allowed more than the usual amount of access to his office as acting CO. That means that anyone who knows that the commander brings his laptop and has computer knowledge could have put the spyware on the commander's laptop."

"Another possibility is that Commander Winston put the spyware on his laptop himself so that, if he got caught, he could use it as his defense - the emails were sent from my account, but I don't know how it happened," Bud says, offering a plausible counter theory.

"Again, a possibility, but I don't believe that's the case." I knew that he might say that, but I'm not going to acknowledge it any more than I just did. I want to stick with my plan of attack because I've got a time limit - Captain Turner is due here in an hour and twelve minutes.

"If I may direct your attention back to the emails that I gave you at the beginning of our meeting, I've taken the liberty, in order to speed our meeting along this morning, of putting together copies of your evidence emails in the same order as the ones that I've just given you for you to be able to quickly see the pattern."

I select the copies that are stapled together from my folder and present them to Bud.

After he accepts the offered documents, I continue, "You'll notice that the text of the emails is exactly the same, word for word. However, if you look at the dates, you'll see that the dates of the two emails are not the same, and when you've had time to review all of the emails that we were able to print yesterday, you'll find that each email that Major Richards received is dated one to two days after the same text email printed from Commander Winston's email provider. This led me to ask questions from someone with more computer knowledge than myself and, along with the preliminary report that we got yesterday afternoon, though I'm not sure who would have a motive for doing so, I believe that someone has been copying and pasting the text of the commander's emails ... " I pull out the copy of the short email that Commander Winston wrote yesterday morning and slide it across the table to Bud. " ... to a woman whom he met on the internet. This is a copy of an email that he sent to her yesterday morning."

I see Bud's eyes immediately scan the document. I'm sure that he's checking the email address and date. I know that's the first two things that I'd check if I were him. Not willing to give out information on my plan to completely clear my client in front of Major Richards in case she's the person responsible, I don't mention the other email that the commander sent yesterday under the watchful eyes of Agent Wong and myself. My hope is that whoever it is that's been framing the commander won't be able to resist sending Major Richards one more email.

"Your theory certainly sheds reasonable doubt on the case, Ma'am, but I don't know that you've given me enough to make me believe that he's innocent either. Since Commander Winston's rotation orders are for Monday, I know that we're all hoping to be able to come to a satisfactory resolution for all parties involved before the weekend. So, I believe that I should confer with Major Richards and General Cresswell before I make any final decision about filing charges."

"When you've reached a decision, you'll find me in my office ready to hear it." I stand, and Commander Winston follows suit.

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," Bud says before Commander Winston and I leave the conference room so that he can confer with Major Richards.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**0823**

I was looking for something to keep me busy while I waited for either a break in the Winston case or for Turner to arrive. The Ballinger case file, which I asked for yesterday but hadn't opened, has turned from busy work to an interesting read. However, a knock on my door causes me to put the file away for now.

"Enter," I say in a commanding voice.

The door opens, and Bud steps into my office, saying, "Colonel, Coates said that I should just come on in. I've spoken with General Cresswell and I've reached a decision."

"I have something that I'd like to share with you, too, Commander, before I meet with my replacement, so please come in and have a seat."

"You have news for me, Ma'am?" he asks, moving to take a seat in front of my desk.

"I didn't want to give this to you in front of Major Richards in case she sent the emails to herself, though I don't see that she'd have a motive ... " I reach for the copy of the email that I had Winston send yesterday afternoon. " ... but I wanted you to be aware that, in full view of myself and Agent Wong - his statement to that effect is the second page - I had my client send an email to the woman whom he's been trying to encourage to meet him in person. I highlighted the email address. I believe that, if the text of this email shows up in Major Richards email inbox, it'll prove that my client isn't the one who's been sending her the emails because Agent Wong put what he called a trap on this email."

"Very clever, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Commander," I say with a certain amount of pride. "Now, what's your decision concerning charging Commander Winston?"

"The general and I feel that, without the final NCIS report on Winston's computer, you've presented enough evidence to support his innocence, so I won't be preferring charges at this time. I've also informed Commander Winston that he's to continue to check out of this command because he'll be rotating to his new duty station as planned."

"Not the outcome that I was hoping for, but -" The intercom buzzes, interrupting me.

I reach over and depress the button.

"Yes, Coates?" I say like a question, though I'm sure that, with only thirty-one minutes left until the scheduled arrival of Captain Turner, she's going to tell me that he's arrived. It would be just like him to arrive ahead of schedule.

"There's an Agent Wong on the phone for you, Ma'am. He says that it's important. Do you want me to take a message?"

"No, Coates. What line?"

"Line two, Ma'am."

"Bud, this might be my lucky day. Agent Wong is on line two," I announce while pushing the button that will put the caller on speaker before I push the correct phone line to connect with the caller.

"Agent Wong, this is Colonel MacKenzie. Lt. Commander Roberts is here with me. I've just informed him of our visit to your office yesterday."

"Well, you sure didn't have to wait long, Ma'am. The trap was activated this morning. I've confirmed that the computer that was used to access Winston's email is located within JLS. I know that this case has a rush on it. If you want to save time, I'm sure that, by the time you can get here, I'll be able to pin it down for you."

"We're on our way, Agent Wong," I say to end the call while nodding to Bud.

Bud and I exit my office. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Coates."

"What about Captain Turner, Ma'am?" Coates asks with a hint of nervous fear.

"Colonel, maybe I should go alone, Ma'am, so that you can stay and meet with Captain Turner," Bud suggests.

I offer a half smile. "I'd rather go with you."

"But under the circumstances, Ma'am ... " Bud says, his voice full of sympathy regarding my situation of being stuck between acting on behalf of my client and being the CO.

"You'll inform me the moment that you know anything?" I ask, disappointed that he's right and that I need to stay here to meet with Turner.

"Of course, Ma'am."

I hate to let him go alone, but I know that Bud isn't the type to conceal or tamper with evidence. I can trust him.

"Then carry on, Commander."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

I watch Bud leave for NCIS before I turn back to Coates.

"I'll be in my office. Let me know when Captain Turner arrives, Petty Officer."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am."

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**0853**

I wasn't surprised that PO Coates has informed me that Sturgis has arrived. 'He's as punctual as ever,' I think as I open the door to my office to greet him.

"Captain Turner, please come in."

"Thank you, Colonel MacKenzie," he says before stepping inside.

I close the door behind him.

"Please make yourself comfortable," I say before turning to find that he's already taken a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of my desk.

I start towards my desk as I speak. "Congratulations on your promotion, Sturgis."

"Thank you ... and congratulations to you on making colonel."

"Thank you," I say, realizing that I feel no need to continue with small talk. "You've got good people here, but, as with any other command, there are a few who stand out."

He waits until I've rounded the corner of my desk before he speaks.

"Are any of them in your league?" he asks.

His tone doesn't sit well with me, but I choose to keep my response low-key in case I'm overreacting.

"I think that there are several who show potential." I pause until after I've sat down in my chair. "I usually hold a staff meeting on Monday and Friday mornings. However, with everything that's already planned for tomorrow, I scheduled a staff meeting for this afternoon at 1500. It's completely up to you if you'd like to attend. I haven't cancelled tomorrow's staff meeting, so if you'd like to skip today's and preside over the usual staff meeting in the morning, that's an option open to you as well. It really depends on what you'd prefer. In fact, except for a rehearsal of the change of command ceremony at 1300, everything on your schedule is open to what you want to do and when you want to do it. Here's a copy of the things that we thought that you might like to do today," I say, handing him a sheet of paper with six or seven items listed on it."

After taking the paper from me, I watch as his eyes scan over the sheet.

"Of course, if there's something that you'd like to do that isn't on the list, my people and I will do what we can to accommodate you, Captain."

"Looking at the list, it seems to be a full day, but if I think of something, I'll let you know," he responds.

"Very well. I'm sure that you're ready to start with the transition. So let's begin by going over the plans for the change of command ceremony. If there are any changes to be made, we can inform them at the meeting this afternoon."

"Sounds good."

**0930**

"Well, it sounds as if we're off to a good start to a smooth transition, so why don't we take a little break? I've assigned Lt. Graves to be your aide for these two days of transition."

I reach over and press the intercom button.

After ordering Coates to have Graves report to my office, I address Turner again.

"I figure that you can kill two birds with one stone. You can stretch your legs while Lt. Graves gives you a tour of the place, and then we can talk about what you'd like to do next, talk about personnel, cases or whatever you'd like to discuss."

Lt. Graves' knock on the door is a welcome relief, not just because I'm dying to know if Bud has tried to get in touch with me, but it's past time for me to pump milk, and I need the break to relieve my discomfort.

**0948**

I'm feeling much better after having relieved the pressure in my breasts.

I've also had time to visit the ladies room and make myself a cup of tea.

I started to have a cup of coffee, but I haven't heard from Bud and, with Turner here, I don't need the caffeine. I need a calming cup of herbal tea.

There's a quick knock on my door and then Coates enters.

"I'm sorry to barge in, Ma'am, but I wasn't sure when you were expecting Captain Turner to return. Commander Roberts just called, Ma'am. He said that, since he didn't have a name to give you, he just wanted me to give you a message. He said that NCIS couldn't get a name because the computer is assigned to the government, JLS in particular, but that Agent Wong had been prepared for something like that and had attached a programming scrambler to the trap so that the guilty party will have trouble with their computer. It's just a matter of them reporting the need for a tech."

"Let's speed the process along, Jennifer. Get the list of equipment issued to JLS at its inception and begin an inventory check. If anyone asks you, you're conducting a simple inventory check of major equipment before the new commander takes over. When you check the equipment, make sure that you ask if the equipment is in working order. I'm sure that Bud has given Major Lafferty the latest news, so I'm sure that he'll be happy to help you with it."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am, right way," she says before disappearing from my office to begin her assignment.

I lean back in my chair. I hate that someone in my command is guilty, but I'm thankful that they were dumb enough to use government equipment. I don't need a search warrant to examine the evidence because they have no right to privacy when they use government issued equipment on government property.

In her enthusiasm, Coates left my door open. I stand to close it, but before I can even get out from behind my desk, Turner appears.

"I've heard of an open-door policy, but to have your yeoman MIA and the door wide open seems like you're taking it too far," Sturgis says cynically as he enters.

"I gave Coates an assignment. She's personally overseeing the inventory check of major equipment, including computers, printers, copy and fax machines, and verifying that they're all in good working order."

"You're being very thorough, Colonel."

"You sound surprised, Captain."

"In a way, only because, as you once admitted to me, you aren't a very detail oriented person. I would have thought that an up-to-date equipment list would be a detail that would have slipped through the cracks for you."

I'm not going to admit to the smug captain that the only reason why I thought of it is because I'm out to solve my case before he takes command.

No wonder he was starting to get under Harm's skin. His air of superiority is starting to get under my skin at the moment as well.

"I'm happy to hear that I exceeded your expectations, Captain," I say before plopping down in my chair and changing the subject. "Do you have a preference of what we cover next or would you like to take off for lunch now?"

"I've been here for less than an hour. Why would I leave for lunch now?" he asks, confused.

"I just thought that you might want to go pick up Varese and take her to lunch. You won't have much time for that once you take over here."

"She's probably taking a nap, so I'm sure that she won't mind if I put in at least a full morning," he says with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Well, how was the tour?" I ask, changing the subject again.

A knock on the door keeps him from answering. "Enter," I say, hoping that whoever it is takes a few minutes of my time because I really don't want to talk about personnel with Turner until I find out which one of my staff has been emailing Major Richards. Now that I'm sure that I can resolve the case involving my XO, I don't want to discuss cases with him just yet either.

In walks a person from the maintenance staff who's carrying a box. "Sorry to bother you, Colonel MacKenzie, but there's no one at the desk. I was told that I should bring up a box for you. Is this one okay?"

"Yes, thank you. That box is fine. I have just a couple of personal items and a few pictures to take home today so that Captain Turner can move in tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma'am. Captain," he says, addressing Turner before leaving the office in a hurry.

"I think there was too much brass in the room for his comfort," I say with a chuckle.

"Yes, I believe you're right," Turner agrees. "If you'd like to take some time to pack, I can find something else to do for a few minutes, Mac," he continues.

"No, I think it'll be easier if I pack towards the end of the day," I say, looking at the pictures of my family that are setting on my desk. "So, what would you like to cover next, Sturgis?" I say, pulling my eyes away from the pictures.

"The pictures ... I count five children. I think that I'm behind a couple of kids," Sturgis says with surprise.

He's opened the door to a conversation about one of my favorite subjects, my family.

"Let's catch you up then. You probably recognize Mattie. She's attending Virginia Tech now and isn't living here, but she's child number one. I don't know if you remember that we adopted a boy that we met at Mattie's foster home. His name is Tyler," I say, pointing to him in the picture from Mother's Day before pointing to the picture next to that one. "Then, we were in the process of adopting the two little girls in this picture, Abigail and Samantha, when we found out that I was pregnant. We were already in love with them, so we went ahead with the adoption ... and child number five is our son, Matthew. He's five weeks old today," I say, looking at the photo of him that I brought with me on Monday. Even though it was going to set here for less than a week, I needed his picture here with me, too.

"Wow!" he says with a smile.

"I know that you're probably busy settling in, but I do hope that you and Varese will attend my retirement party tomorrow night," I say sincerely.

"I'm sure that Varese would love to get out for a little socializing, so we'd love to come, but are you sure that Harm will be okay with me attending the event? I know that you both came to my wedding, but I'm still not sure that he and I are on good terms."

"You'll find that fatherhood has mellowed him ... or maybe with five children, he's just exhausted," I say jokingly.

I can actually see the tension leave his face. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who was apprehensive about him taking over from me.

"I'll check with Varese and let you know for certain if she's feeling up to going out."

"Feeling up to it ... is Varese ill?" I ask, concerned.

"She's just been feeling a bit off."

"Is she pregnant?" I blurt out, not sure why it was my first thought.

"We haven't announced it, so I hope that you'll let us do that, but yes, we're expecting our first child," he says with a grin.

"Well, congratulations to you both. Speaking from experience, there's nothing more wonderful than being a parent," I tell him.

Work related topics go out the window, and our discussion stays on children and babies until I get out of him that Varese is ten weeks along. I suggest that he go ahead and go to lunch, that he should stop and pick up something for his wife and make sure that she eats something to keep up her strength. This time, he acquiesces and, at 1030, he's on his way to stop by one of the local places that I suggested to pick up something for his pregnant wife for lunch.

**1045**

I know that Coates is still carrying out her assignment, so with Turner out from underfoot for a couple of hours, I step out of my office to go in search of Lt. Commander Roberts, but I nearly collide with PO Coates.

"Colonel, I was just coming to see if you could join Commander Roberts and Major Lafferty in Lt. Lincoln's office, Ma'am," Coates says to me.

I nod, and Jennifer turns on her heel, leading the way through the bullpen to Lt. Lincoln's office.

**LT. LINCOLN'S OFFICE**

**MOMENTS LATER**

"What's going on in here?" I ask as I get to the doorway, not that I don't have a pretty good idea.

Bud replies to my inquiry.

"Colonel, we believe that the lieutenant's computer is the one that was used. The ID number matches the one that Agent Wong gave us, and the computer is locked in a pattern that Agent Wong said that it would be when I spoke with him earlier. I thought that you should be here when I entered the code that Agent Wong gave me. If it corrects the computer problem, we can be sure that this computer was used to email Major Richards this morning."

I move closer to the desk so that I can see the computer screen.

"Go ahead, Commander. Let's see if the code that you have corrects the computer problem."

Bud's fingers move across the keyboard and, moments later, the computer screen returns to a normal desktop display.

"Coates, get security and have them take Lt. Lincoln into custody."

"Yes, Ma'am," she says before disappearing to carry out her orders.

"Just because it was the computer in my office doesn't mean that I did it," Lt. Lincoln snaps. "What motive would I have?"

"The Ballinger case," I say with certainty, following a hunch that I'd had the moment that I'd heard that we were headed to Lt. Lincoln's office. "You were struggling to defend your client against not only a strong case, but a strong attorney. By sending Major Richards those emails, you were hoping to throw her off her game and give yourself an advantage."

Lt. Lincoln's posture changes to one of defeat, and he can no longer make eye contact with any of us.

**STAFF MEETING**

**CONFERENCE ROOM**

**JLS**

**1535**

After the arrest of Lt. Lincoln, Bud and I spoke to Major Richards to ask her if she'd ever given the lieutenant her personal email address. She told us that she hadn't. However, she and the lieutenant's present girlfriend are friends, and it was entirely possible that the lieutenant had gotten her email address from his girlfriend.

As far as I was concerned, that filled in the last piece of the puzzle, and though the final report from NCIS is still pending at the moment, the case is, for all practical purposes, resolved, and that made me feel good. Not only did I solve the case, but I accomplished it before I turned over command of this unit and retired.

Realizing that I'm near the end of the items on my list to cover in this afternoon's meeting, I find that the euphoric feelings that stemmed from discovering the truth so that justice could be served are giving way to the more reflective and nostalgic feelings that I've been having off and on all week, making me thankful that today is almost over.

"Just a couple of more things ... for anyone who got a chance to meet the new CO and is curious as to why he didn't join us this afternoon, he said that you'll have plenty of time to get to know him, so he felt that this should be my farewell staff meeting. He also sees no reason to hold a staff meeting tomorrow. However, he said that he wants everyone in this conference room at 0800 sharp on Monday for what will probably be an extended staff meeting. So that we're clear, it means that everyone is to report to the ceremony site at 1000 tomorrow. Now, to conclude this meeting so that we can all go home and make sure that our uniforms are ready for tomorrow, I'd like to say that it's been my privilege and a pleasure to serve with all of you, and no matter whether you're staying here at JLS or moving to a new duty station, I wish you continued career success and happiness. You're dismissed."

The group stands, comes to attention and salutes me.

I'm filled with pride and return the salute.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1550**

I have one more piece of JLS business to take care of today - reassigning the Ballinger case.

While gathering my things to secure for the day, my door is open because I'm waiting for Major Lafferty.

I'm doing a double check of my office to make sure that I've collected all of my personal things when I hear Major Lafferty's voice.

"Colonel MacKenzie, Coates said that you wanted to see me, Ma'am?"

"Yes, Major, please come in and close the hatch," I order because we'll be talking about a case. I want the door closed for privacy.

"I know that you aren't officially assigned to JLS until Monday, but are you ready for a case?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answers without hesitation.

My desk is stacked with the items that I need to take to my car after I've wrapped up this last piece of business, so I believe that either the box with my personal items in it or the cooler in which I transport breast milk that I've pumped throughout the day is blocking his view of the file that's setting on the corner of my desk until I lift the file above those items.

"I'd like for you to take over as defense counsel in the Ballinger case," I explain.

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," he says as he takes the case file from me.

"If the lieutenant had spent more time reading and less time trying to mess with the prosecutor's head, he might have figured out that the witness didn't actually see the crime being committed. What he saw was the defendant holding the knife while leaning over the victim. My first step would be to find out if the blood on the defendant's clothes is consistent with someone who'd just stabbed someone five times or with someone who'd just picked up a bloody murder weapon."

"It sounds like you've already got a defense strategy in mind. Maybe you should take the case, Ma'am."

"No, Major Lafferty," I say with a smile. "I'm retiring tomorrow. However, if you'd like to bounce ideas off of someone, don't hesitate to give me a call."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Ma'am," he says, returning my smile.

"One last thing, Major, I'd like for you to attend my retirement dinner party tomorrow evening."

"I'd consider it an honor, Ma'am. Thank you. Is the uniform of the day the required attire, Ma'am?"

"Your Class A uniform or appropriate civilian attire, the choice is yours. Have PO Coates give you the where and when. She and Lt. Graves have been organizing the soiree for me, so anything that you need to know, I'll bet that one of them can give you the answer faster than I can."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," he responds.

"That'll be all, Major," I say, dismissing him.

"Yes, Ma'am." He turns on his heel and heads for the door, but pauses and turns back around. "Ma'am, if you're leaving, I'd be happy to help you carry some of your things to your car, Ma'am."

"If you don't mind, Major, I'd really appreciate the help."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2135**

I expect to find Harm propped up in bed, reading a book as usual, but when I enter our bedroom, I find that he's sitting up, but he isn't reading this evening.

"I thought that you might want to talk tonight," he says.

I guess that he sensed my surprise at not seeing him reading.

"Talk about what?" I ask, confused.

"I don't know, maybe about how you're feeling about tomorrow being your last day as a Marine," he says as I slip into bed.

"With defending Winston and giving some tips on a defense strategy to Major Lafferty concerning the murder case that I assigned him late today, I can't say that the fact that tomorrow is my last day at JLS has really sunk in yet," I say solemnly, but then my hackles rise a bit. "And for your information, Sailor, once a Marine, always a Marine," I say defensively, reminding him of a Marine's commitment to the Corps.

Harm laughs.

"Then let's get some sleep, Jarhead." He's smiling, so I know that he's teasing me. "We've both got a busy day tomorrow."


	56. Chapter 56

**PART FIVE**

**FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2007**

**MASTER BATHROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0635 **

**MAC'S POV**

I enter the bedroom and hear the water running in the bathroom, so I know that Harm is back from his morning workout. However, by the time I reach the bathroom door, the water has stopped running.

"Harm, I was hoping for a smooth morning, but no such luck," I say as I enter our bathroom and see Harm at the sink with a towel around his waist and his face lathered up for shaving.

"What's happened?" he asks before he starts to move his razor through the shaving cream.

I'll be fine as long as I don't stare at his towel. Focus on his face, MacKenzie, I tell myself as I start to tell him the problem.

"Sami says that she isn't feeling well. She says that she has a tummy ache, and she sounds a little congested. She has a slight fever, but she's refusing to take any Tylenol for me."

"I'll get little Miss Stubborn to take some," he says before lowering his razor to rinse it in the sink. "Today is your special day, and I don't want you to worry your pretty head about a thing today. I just want you to enjoy your day from start to finish," he says before placing a kiss on the end of my nose. "As soon as I finish shaving, the bathroom is all yours."

I start to walk out, but my conversation with Bud comes to mind.

"You really want me to have a good day?"

"Yes," he replies while taking another stroke with his razor.

"Then switch cars with me. I want to drive the cool car today."

"You want the keys to my Corvette?"

"No, I want the keys to _our_ Corvette."

He's smiling. "The keys are in the top drawer of my dresser."

I turn and leave the bathroom to go retrieve the keys before he changes his mind.

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**0652**

**HARM'S POV**

I enter the room and sit on the edge of Sami's bed.

"Momma tells me that you aren't feeling well. What's wrong with my ladybug?"

I know that she really mustn't be feeling well because she's only rolled over to face me. A healthy Sami would have had her arms wrapped around my neck the minute I sat down on her bed.

"My tummy doesn't feel so good and my head hurts, too," Sami says, sounding congested like Mac said as she whines about her symptoms.

"Well, we can't have my little girl feeling sick. So, I wonder what Daddy can do to fix it."

I wait a moment for dramatic effect.

"I know. Daddy will give you some medicine and tuck you back into bed, and then when you wake up again, you'll feel better. Does that sound like a good plan?"

"Will you be home when I wake up?" she asks a little less whiny.

"No, Daddy has to go to work, but Grandma and Papa will be here."

"I'll feel better if you or Mommy stay with me," she says with her lower lip out in a full pout.

"Do you remember what Mommy told you that her retiring from the Marine Corps meant?"

"Yes. Mommy said she has two jobs, being a Marine and being our mommy, and that when she's 'tired, she'd be just our mommy."

"That's right, and today is the day that she's going to retire, so it's very important that Momma be there for the ceremony. Momma not being there would be like you not being at your own birthday party. I suppose that you could miss your party, but you'd disappoint the people who'd planned it for you and you'd miss going to it."

"Why can't you stay home with me?"

Sami is being a tough case this morning.

"If there was nobody else to take care of you, Daddy would stay home, but you've got three people who'll take very good care of you while Daddy is at work."

"Are you going to Momma's cer'mony?"

"Yes. Momma wants all of us to be there, so you need to take your medicine so that you'll feel well enough to come to her ceremony, too."

"Okay, I'll take it so I can go to Momma's cer'mony."

I pat her arm. "I'll be right back with your medicine."

"Okay."

I'm not sure that she understands what a ceremony is, so I'll have to try to explain what she's going to see this afternoon after she's taken her medicine.

I step out of the girls' room to retrieve the Tylenol, but Mac is standing in the hall, holding the bottle.

"Mac, I thought that you'd be in the shower," I say, surprised to find her in the hall.

"I started to, but I wanted to see how you managed her so that I'd know how to get her to take medication the next time." Her eyes drop from mine to the floor. "You've already made arrangements to be away from the office for most of today, so you could easily arrange to have the rest of the day off so you can stay with her."

I reach out and cup her elbow with my hand, which causes her to look up at me.

"I could, and if she wasn't in such good hands with my parents and grandmother, you might be able to make a case for me to do it. As for the time off that I've already arranged, I have plans to watch another very special female in my life ... " Her eyes dart from mine in a bashful 'are you talking about me' way. " ... get the recognition that she deserves for the years that she's served her country."

I brush my lips against hers.

It was hardly a kiss, but I've got time constraints this morning.

"It's important to me that I'm there..." I get a nervous flutter in my stomach. " ...unless you've changed your mind and you don't want me to be there."

"Of course, I want you to be there. I want my whole family to be there," she says with determination.

"Then give me the Tylenol so that I can get it into Sami so that she can shake her fever and be there today, too."

I get a small smile, the one that tells me that she's feeling better now.

"I'm going to go get in the shower. I shouldn't be late on my last day," she says as she hands me the Tylenol.

"No you shouldn't be late," I say as I take the bottle from her.

As I turn to head back into Sami's room, I hear Mac's soft voice say, "I love you."

I stop and turn to face her.

"I love you."

I turn back to continue in to see Sami, saying over my shoulder, "Now hit the shower, Marine."

I hear her laugh as I enter Sami's room, and it brings a smile to my face to know that I've got one of my girls feeling better.

**JLS**

**1000**

**MAC'S POV**

"Good morning, Colonel." I hear as I step off the elevator.

The voice belongs to Turner, and Varese is on his arm.

"Good morning, Captain. Varese, you look lovely."

"Thank you, Col -"

"Please call me Mac," I say cutting off Varese.

"Thank you, Mac."

"I was giving Varese a tour of the place," Turner says before inquiring about the whereabouts of my spouse. "Where's Harm?"

"He's on his way. He called when he left his office. His ETA is 1015."

"It sounds like everything is on schedule then," Turner comments.

"Yes, it is at the moment," I reply.

"Are you expecting any problems?" Turner asks.

"I'm not expecting any, but you never know. Harm and I have already had an unexpected event this morning, so I'm trying to stay prepared for anything."

"An unexpected event ... nothing serious, I hope?" Varese asks with concern.

"I don't think that it's serious. One of the girls woke up this morning with a slight fever and congestion. I think that she may be catching a cold, which certainly isn't serious, but it's the first time that one of the children has been sick, so it's a new experience for us."

"Sturgis told me that you have five children now."

"Yes, only four at home though. The oldest is away at college."

"Is she going to be here today?"

"No. We didn't want her to miss school."

"Do you see her often?" Varese asks.

The ease at which Varese can engage someone in small talk and make them feel like she's a friend makes her a perfect match to Sturgis' more rigid personality. They're opposites in that area, and she compliments him well. She'll make an excellent commanding officer's wife.

"Not as often as we'd like, but she was here for Thanksgiving, and we're planning on her being here for Christmas." I reply to Varese's inquiry. Then I suddenly remember something. "By the way, I hear that you're expecting a child. Congratulations!" I say to Varese, keeping my voice down so that no one overhears and they can make their announcement when they feel that the time is right.

"Thank you. Sturgis told me that you'd guessed that I was expecting when he told you that I might not feel up to coming to your retirement dinner tonight, but I feel fine today, so we both plan to be there," Varese says, giving me a demure smile.

"Great! I'm glad that you'll be able to attend," I reply.

I'm about to suggest that we move to my office so that we can chat in a more comfortable environment, when the elevator doors open and a passenger steps out and looks at his watch.

"Has there been a change in departure time, because I'm not late," Harm says.

I'm sure that us standing so close to the elevators like we were about to leave is what has him confused and asking the question.

"No change in plans. They were here when I stepped off the elevator, and we got to talking and just haven't moved from this spot, but we should go into my office. I don't know about anyone else, but my feet can use every chance to rest that they can get when they're in heels," I answer while Sturgis and Harm exchange a friendly handshake and acknowledging nod.

"I'll second that," Varese adds.

"I'll follow you wherever you want to wait, but I wore my _comfortable_ shoes," Harm says with a smirk.

"Yeah, me, too," Sturgis says, chuckling.

"Very funny, Gentlemen," I say as I step away from the group, moving away from the elevators and towards my office.

**MAC'S OFFICE**

**1035**

I've been catching bits and pieces of the conversation as the three of them have talked while we wait for our departure time to begin the 1100 change of command ceremony, but I haven't been very active in the conversation.

I'm sitting behind my desk for the last time.

I didn't think that I'd get so nostalgic this early in the day. I expected to get a little misty-eyed this afternoon, but not this morning, not over leaving an office.

I feel Harm's hand on my arm a second before I hear Harm's voice.

"Mac, are you okay?"

My eyes focus on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Because you didn't respond when Sturgis said that it was time to head out to the ceremony site before he and Varese left the room. That isn't like you."

I look around to see that Sturgis and Varese are no longer in the room.

"Where are the Turners?"

"The driver for you and Turner should be here in a few minutes, so it's time for me to take Varese and head over to the site, but I wasn't going to leave until I knew that you were okay."

"I'm fine, really. I think that it all just started to hit me, you know, that today is my last day in this office ... and in the Corps."

"Are you having a change of heart about leaving the Corps?" he asks.

"No, but I am starting to wonder about what comes next," I say in a reassuring tone and with a slight smile so that he'll stop worrying about me. "You'd better get going. Tell Sturgis that I'll be with him in five minutes."

"Okay," Harm says before kissing my cheek and heading out of my office.

After Harm has left my office, I stand and look out the window for a moment.

The view of the flat ground to the tree line isn't a view that I'll miss.

I take several moments to make sure that I've removed all of my personal items and then I move to the door, cover in hand.

I pause for a moment in the open doorway before shutting off the lights and closing the door, trying to take to heart the old adage that, 'when one door closes, another one opens.'

Bud is working at a desk in the bullpen, and I intend to speak with him, but before I can address him, he addresses me.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I know that you're in a bit of a hurry, but I wanted to tell you that I spoke to Agent Wong a few minutes ago, and the matter involving the commander is officially over."

"What did Agent Wong find that makes it a certainty?"

"He's going to fax over the final report this afternoon, but he said that there's plenty of evidence to support your theory. It seems that the lieutenant didn't copy and paste, but rather changed the email address to send it. Agent Wong said that, if the commander had had a different email provider, Lt. Lincoln might have gotten away with his crime."

"What difference does the provider make?" I ask.

"As far as delivering email, none, Ma'am, but, in this case, the way the emails were saved. Commander Winston's email provider saved the changes made, but since the date wasn't changed, the email was saved with the original date. However, the date that Major Richards received it had the current date. That's how you were able to see the discrepancy. Agent Wong said that he was able to find the original emails and get the dates of modification for each one." He pauses briefly before he continues, "Ma'am, since I'll be able to wrap this up before the end of the day ... I miss Harriet and the kids, and I'd like to get back for the weekend, Ma'am, which means ... " His voice trials off, and I know what he's trying to say.

" ... Which means that you can't make it to my dinner tonight."

He nods affirmatively that I've gotten it right.

"Are you able to come to the ceremony this afternoon?" I ask, trying to mask my disappointment that he won't be attending the gathering tonight because I understand that he misses his family and I don't want him to feel badly for choosing to go home rather than stay for my retirement dinner.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with a grin.

"Would you like to ride to the ceremony site with us?" I ask with a mischievous smile. "Harm is driving the minivan."

"Yes, Ma'am, thank you," he says with a smile.

"We're meeting the rest of the family here so that they can follow us over to the site where the ceremony will take place, so be ready to go at 1230."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll look forward to seeing you then."

I give Bud a simple nod before leaving the area to meet Sturgis.

I see Sturgis standing next to our car and lift my hand.

"These belong to you now," I say as I drop the keys to the office into his hand.

"Thank you, Mac," he says softly before entering the car.

**CEREMONY LOCATION**

**MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

**1115**

The ceremony began on time, and we're moving swiftly through it.

The chaplain is now giving the invocation, and I find my mind drifting again, the way that it's done so many other times this week.

I'm looking out from my place on the platform, thinking about the day that this location was decided upon.

There was no room or space big enough in the Naval Reserve Center where the JLS office is located to accommodate the ceremonies today. The small parking lot made it an unreasonable choice for the ceremonies as well. The land to the side and rear of our building was considered, but the fact that sandy soil isn't the greatest for women in heels to stand at attention or walk on also eliminated it as a possibility. That's what led us to seek space on the Marine base to have the ceremonies.

I hear the "Amen" and know that, after a brief introduction, I'll be taking my place behind the podium.

"We will now hear from the commanding officer of Joint Legal Services, Southwest, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

A calm feeling that I hadn't expected comes over me as I take my place behind the podium. I guess that I'm ready to let this part of my life go now, I think as I begin to speak to those gathered.

I didn't have much to say, so I'm soon uttering the traditional words, "I am ready to be relieved."

Sturgis Turner steps forward and, after reading his orders to command, he comes to attention, salutes me and utters the traditional response, "I relieve you, Ma'am."

I return his salute, and that makes it official. He is now the new commanding officer of JLS and, after he makes a brief speech, Commander Winston will return to the podium to officially end the ceremony.

**1135**

There is one advantage to having a tall husband, at least in a dispersing crowd. He's easy to spot, making it easy to get to him quickly.

"We've got only fifty-five minutes before we have to pick up Bud at JLS," I inform him when we reach each other.

"We're picking up Bud?" he asks, sounding confused.

"Yeah, it kind of came up at the last minute. He's going back tonight and can't make the dinner party," I explain.

"Then let me call and check in at home to make sure that Sami is feeling better and that they're on their way to meet us." He's pulling out his cellphone as he continues to talk to me. "That way, you'll have time to nurse Matthew as planned before we leave for your ceremony. If they're squared away on their end, I'll come to lunch with you and the Turners at the O Club. If not, I'll drop you off and head to the house to help out so that there are no delays."

I only nod in agreement to his plan because he's already dialed the number and has his cellphone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer.

"Hi, Mom. I'm just calling to see if Sami's feeling better," Harm says, beginning the conversation.

"The fever is gone, and she's eaten and is acting more like herself, so I'd say that she's feeling better."

"Good, I'm glad that she's feeling better."

I know that he's rephrasing his mother's answers and saying it back for my benefit.

"Since they had only a half day because it's the last day of school before the winter break, you didn't have any trouble picking up Abigail and Tyler from school, did you?" he asks his mother.

"We didn't have any trouble picking them up, but you should know that Tyler was in the nurse's office complaining of a stomachache. He says that he's feeling fine now. Maybe it's the same thing that had Sami down this morning, a little stomach bug. He doesn't have a fever and he wants to come to see the ceremony. Frank thought that there was going to be a problem with picking up her uncle because his plane was delayed, but we got him, and all is well."

"If Ty says that he's feeling up to it, then bring him. If he's got the same thing that Sami had this morning, she's feeling better, so he should be fine."

"That's what we thought, too. Frank is telling me to get moving or we're going to be late, so I have to go, dear."

"Okay, I'll let you go," he says, ending the call before explaining the abrupt end of the call to me.

"Frank was telling her that they're ready to leave so she'd better quit talking and start moving or she was going to make them late."

Does he think that I wasn't paying attention to the conversation?

"What's wrong with Tyler?" I demand to know, concern for my son blocking out any thoughts of lunch or retiring.

"Mom said that, when they picked them up from school, Tyler was in the nurse's office, complaining of a stomachache. She said that he isn't running a fever and since he already says that he feels better, she thinks that maybe he had the same bug that Sami had this morning. So, they're all on their way to meet us."

"I don't know if it's the same bug or not. This is like the fourth or fifth time that he's complained of a stomachache since Matthew was born."

I consider the facts for a moment.

"I think that my first official act as a full-time mom will be to make him an appointment for a checkup, just to be on the safe side."

"Moms know best." That's Harm's only comment on the subject of taking Tyler to the doctor. He has more pressing things on his mind. "We need to get to the car. We're on a tight schedule since we're meeting the Turners for lunch, and then we've got to get over to JLS to meet the family with enough time for you to nurse Matthew before we have to leave for your ceremony."

My concern for Tyler won't be gone until I can get him to a doctor, but it will lessen when I can see him for myself.

Since Harm said that the family was leaving the house, the best plan is for us to meet the Turners for lunch as previously arranged.

Having lunch with friends will help to keep my mind occupied, limiting the amount of time that I worry about Ty before I get to see him, so I walk willingly alongside Harm towards the car so that we can head over to the Officer's Club for lunch.

**RETIREMENT ****CEREMONY LOCATION**

**MARINE CORPS AIR STATION MIRAMAR**

**1300**

I can hear Commander Winston begin the ceremony with "Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen" from my position out of sight, waiting for my cue to walk on the stage.

I listen to him announce the names of my distinguished guests, including Navy Captain Harmon Rabb, Jr.

I'd like to say that I planned my retirement ceremony from start to finish, but I'm afraid that I wasn't that involved, so I'm not privy to some of what's happening, like the arrival of General Cresswell.

I was told that I'm going to have an unusual ceremony since it's a mix of Marine and Navy ceremonies, sort of a salute to my last assignment as commanding officer of Joint Legal Services.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for the arrival of the official party and the playing of the National Anthem."

Now it's time to see what they've planned for me.

I make my entrance and face the flag at the first note of the National Anthem.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Chaplain Pennington will now give the invocation," Commander Winston announces when the National Anthem ends.

"In honor of Colonel MacKenzie's years of service as a United States Marine, it seems appropriate that I say the Marine prayer this afternoon. "Almighty Father, whose ... ... which I may understand the answer to my prayer. Amen."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please be seated. To say a few words this afternoon, we are honored to have the Navy's Judge Advocate General of the United States, Major General Gordon Cresswell."

My apprehension at having Cresswell as my commanding officer at JAG HQ, given the knowledge that he had of my affair with John Farrow, has faded over time, but, by the same token, I never expected him to be a speaker at my retirement ceremony. However, he _is_ here and is recapping my career for those in attendance.

I look at the front row and see that my husband, his grandmother, my in-laws, one of whom is holding my sleeping baby boy, my uncle and two older children are listening carefully to what the general is saying, while I can tell that Sami is trying hard to sit still.

The next item on the agenda is a presentation of awards, and I'm presented with a shadow box displaying each rank that I've held, a list of the duty stations at which I've served during my career and the ribbons that I've been awarded over the years.

For most ceremonies, the next step would be to recognize the spouse who'd stood by and supported the service member through their career. It seemed odd to give Harm a letter of appreciation when we've been married for such a small percentage of my career. However, I didn't want to hurt Harm's feelings, so I asked him if he wanted to be recognized as my supporter and spouse. Harm declined any recognition even after I pointed out that, though we've been married for only two years, he's been 'my partner' for more than a decade. He'd said that it was my day and he wanted the focus to be on me alone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, retired, will now give her remarks."

I step to the podium and, the moment that I look out at those attending, I get choked up, so I'm glad that I wrote down what I wanted to say this afternoon.

"I know that lawyers aren't known for being brief in their comments, but I hope to make an exception this afternoon." There are a few chuckles from the audience that quickly die off, and I continue, "I joined the Marine Corps because I was searching for something and, over the years, I think that what I was looking for changed, but no matter what I thought that I was looking for, the Marine Corps kept me from losing my way. I retire today not only proud to have served my country, but to have served it alongside some of the finest men and women on the planet. I leave you today with two simple words that mean so much to me, Semper Fi."

I return to my seat, and Commander Winston returns to the podium. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as you may know or recall from General Cresswell's speech, Colonel MacKenzie's most recent assignment has been as the commanding officer of the Joint Legal Services Office, combining both Navy and Marine Corps attorneys under one command. As such, her Navy staff has arranged for a traditional Navy send off. Everyone please stand for the playing of the Marine Corps Hymn and remain standing for the remainder of the ceremony.

This honor, arranged by my Navy staff members, is a surprise to me.

After the playing of the Marine Corps Hymn, Harm, dressed in his dress blues, comes to stand beside me, offering his arm, and I slip my hand around it.

"Boatswain, pipe Colonel MacKenzie ashore," Commander Winston orders.

Harm, far more familiar with this tradition than I am, moves us to the head of the sideboys.

The bell is struck twice before announcing, "Colonel MacKenzie, United States Marine Corps, departing."

The boatswain begins to pipe, and the sideboys raise their hands in a salute.

Harm raises his hand in a return salute, and I do the same as we walk the red carpet.

On the last note of the pipe, all drop their salute in unison, and then Harm turns to face me.

Anchors Aweigh begins to play, and Harm stuns me when he snaps to attention before bringing his hand up to salute me.

There's something about the respect and recognition that he's giving me with his salute that brings tears to my eyes.

I return his salute, and then the music ends before Commander Winston addresses my guests from the podium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this concludes the ceremony. On behalf of Ms. MacKenzie and her family, thank you very much for taking part in this time-honored tradition."

**FIVE STAR BANQUET HALL**

**MACKENZIE PARTY**

**1900**

This evening isn't a Dining Out, but, as the guest of honor, I chose to wear my Class A uniform this evening. However, Harm said that tonight he was merely the spouse and is in a brown suit, cream colored shirt and a dark green tie. He teased me that the colors of his ensemble were inspired by Marine camouflage gear.

Harm's grandmother was thrilled to have been at the ceremony and didn't want to hurt my feelings, but said that she was sure that the dinner party was going to go on until past an old woman's bedtime, so she volunteered to stay home to baby-sit and let everyone else go without being worried about the children.

With Sami and Tyler seemingly feeling better, I was able to leave the house without any more hesitation than I've had all week about leaving Matthew to go to work. However, I'm still feeling some separation anxiety when we reach the hall.

The decorations are wonderful, from the flower centerpieces of red, white and blue to the camouflage napkins and Marine green tableclothes. If someone had described the color scheme to me, I think that I would've rejected it, but it actually works well and, given the occasion, seems appropriate.

We aren't the only ones here, but it's still early, so the view of the bar is unobstructed.

"Let me buy you a drink, Harm," Uncle Matt suggests, looking towards the bar in the back corner.

"Sure," Harm replies, my uncle immediately making strides for the bar. "Do you want something to drink, Mac?" Harm asks me.

"The usual," I reply, still taking in the decorated room.

"You've got it, soda with a twist," he says before kissing me on the cheek. "It's only on occasions like this that I find it hard not to order you a drink."

I'm a little shocked by his statement, so I ask, stunned, "Why is that?"

"Because you seem tense, or maybe it's nervous, and a shot of something would take off the edge."

"I just didn't want to leave the kids ... and this place looks wonderful, but it seems like a lot of work, trouble and money to spend on me," I say to explain to him that I'm not nervous, though I am guilty of missing my children and overwhelmed by all the fuss that's being made over me.

"Our children are in good hands with my grandmother. She'll call if there's a problem. As far as all this, you deserve it and so much more that I don't want you to give it another thought. Just enjoy the party," he says with a wink and a big grin.

He gives me another kiss on the cheek and excuses himself so that he can get to the bar to have that drink with my uncle.

By the time the appetizer is served, my separation anxiety has dissipated and the party mood is starting to take hold.

After the entree is served and eaten, to my surprise, it's Sturgis Turner who's the first to raise his glass and offer the first official toast of the evening.

Once the first toast has been made, many others follow suit, and all say such nice things about me, either as a person, a commanding officer or as a Marine, that it makes me happy that I was in the military.

I imagine that, for most people, the kinds of things that are being said about me tonight are said at funerals where you're unaware of how people felt about you.

I'm not only the recipient of toasts, but several of my former commanding officers, John Farrow and AJ Chegwidden, sent congratulatory words that Commander Winston reads aloud to me and my guests.

Jennifer Coates also has words of apology from Bud that he wasn't able to attend, but then she has a message that he'd prepared before leaving for her to read.

After reading what I believe to be the end of Bud's thoughts, Jennifer continues to speak. It seems that Harriet had asked him to include a few words from her, too.

With no one else looking as if they're going to stand, I think that the compliments and well wishes are over, but I guess that, as Harm stands, he wanted to save his words until last.

"As lawyers, we often see the fallout of war, but we don't see combat. However, Colonel MacKenzie has seen combat of varying degrees, hostile forces trying to overrun the US Embassy in Indonesia, to name one instance, where she safely evacuated embassy personnel, an act for which she received the Medal of Valor. She has served her country with honor, and her courage is an example to all that women can be not only Marines, but good ones. Tonight, I raise a glass to toast the long career of a fine Marine and a beautiful woman."

He takes a drink from his glass, but doesn't sit down. After a moment, he begins to speak again.

"Unlike a civilian attorney who's retiring from their firm, the military doesn't give out gold watches, but we just didn't think that was right. So, on behalf of those who have served with you or love you ... "

I don't know when it appeared on the table because I hadn't noticed it before, but he reaches to pick up a square box, which is near his plate.

" ... I present you with this," he says, offering me the box.

I take the offered gift and open it. It's a gold watch, the face of which is the Marine Corps emblem.

I get choked up at the sight of it.

The emotions stirred inside me cause me to swallow hard as I stand, trying to keep them from reflecting in my voice when I speak

"The Corps teaches us that we are just one among many. That as one, we can make little difference, but as a unit, we can achieve great things. So, I want to thank all of you for making me feel that the journey to this day was a little easier or that we were able to push on just a little farther because I was with you. I certainly know that all of you are part of my success. I also want to thank all of you for the beautiful watch ... for being here tonight ... for being my friends ... for everything." I can feel the sting of forming tears and I stop speaking. As usual, it's Harm to my rescue.

"Semper Fi!" he says.

My guests yell back, "Semper Fi!"

"And now ... " On cue, the double doors open and in rolls a cake. " ... it's time for cake," Harm announces.

The room erupts into a mixture of cheers and applause.

I lean against Harm. The last couple of minutes have been the hardest part of this day.

"Are you going to be able to cut the cake?" he whispers to me.

"Yeah, I'll make it. I'm a Marine, but I want you to be with me."

Harm and I move from our table to stand side-by-side, poised to cut the cake and allow time for the photographer to take our picture.

"Hey, haven't I cut a cake with you before?" Harm asks quietly.

The memory of us cutting our wedding cake brings a perfect smile to my face as the photographer takes our picture.

The cutting of the cake is the end of the evening for some, like Varese, who apologizes for being too tired to stay any longer.

Harm's parents depart soon after, too, promising to stop by our house to check on everyone so that we can dance and enjoy my party - the first evening that we've been out together in months.

A few minutes later, when a couple of guests are saying their goodbyes to me, Harm spots Major Lafferty near the bar.

After we've said good night to my guests, Harm and I make our way over to the major.

"Lafferty, I'm glad that I got a chance to speak with you this evening. There was business between us that I was supposed to take care of this morning at the office, but since you were already over at JLS, it didn't happen that way," Harm informs him.

"What kind of business, Sir?" he asks, sounding a little nervous.

"Let me buy you a drink, Lt. Colonel Lafferty, and we'll talk about it."

"Lieutenant ... Colonel ... Sir?" Lafferty stutters out.

"Yes, Captain Turner will make it official on Monday morning, but you've been promoted. Congratulations," Harm adds, confirming it for him.

"Yes, congratulations, Colonel Lafferty. I'm sure that you'll be an excellent XO for Captain Turner," I add.

"Thank you, Sir, Ma'am, but I think that means that I should buy you two a drink."

"Nothing for me, thank you. In fact, I'd like to talk to PO Coates before she leaves. So, if you two will excuse me ... " I say to his offer.

"Yes, Ma'am," Lafferty replies, while Harm simply nods in acknowledgment that I'm excusing myself.

It isn't long after that that the party starts to wind down, and though I'm sorry to see the wonderful evening end, I'm kind of thankful because I'm getting a little tired myself.

I'm just not the party-all-night kind of girl any more. I'm the 'I need to get home, do bed checks and get some rest because I have four children to keep up with' woman now.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**2345**

"Do you think that you can get out of your clothes and pour yourself into bed without help?" I ask my slightly inebriated husband with a chuckle.

"I admit that I had more to drink than I've had in a long time, but I'm not that far gone, Mac. I can put myself to bed."

"Then you do that while I make sure that my uncle has everything that he needs to settle into the guest house for the night. I'll come back to make sure that you made it into bed before I check on the children."

**0010**

I walk in from getting my uncle settled in and find that my husband has indeed stripped down to his boxers and made it into bed. However, he didn't pull down the covers.

I go to his side of the bed and give him a nudge.

"I'm not asleep," he says to my nudging him.

"You're going to get cold during the night if you don't get under the covers."

"I'm waiting for you to come to bed," he answers with a yawn.

"I don't think that you'll be awake that long. I think that, between the drink or two that you had with my uncle, the wine that you had with dinner, and toasting Major Lafferty on his promotion to lieutenant colonel, you'll be fast asleep before I make it to bed tonight."

"Lafferty told me that you offered to consult on a case," he says as if my mention of Lafferty just reminded him of it.

"You said that he's a good investigator, but that he'd been out of the courtroom for the past two years while at NCIS, so I thought that I'd offer to help with the case that I assigned him. You don't mind if I advise him, do you?" I ask, hoping that his bringing it up doesn't mean that he disapproves of the idea.

"No. In fact, I told Lafferty that you're at the top of your game, so he'd be lucky to have you consult on any case, any time."

"That was very sweet of you to say."

"I wasn't being sweet. I was just telling him the truth."

I must have offended his male sensibility because he sounded defensive that I called him sweet.

"I'm going to go check on the older kids and then I'll have to either nurse Matthew or pump before I'm ready for bed."

"You're a busy woman," he says.

His voice is husky from the dry mouth that drinking causes or the onset of sleep. It's a toss up between the two.

"You made me wish that I was a Marine today, Mac. I'm very proud of you ... and I'm lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Sailor. Now let's get you under the covers."

He rolls to my side of the bed, and I pull down the covers. When he rolls back to his side of the bed, I lift the covers over him.

"I'll be in to join you as soon as I can," I say before giving him a brief kiss.

"Okay," he mumbles.

I have a feeling that it'll be the last thing that he'll say tonight as I start to unbutton my jacket.

I remove my uniform and put on a night gown and robe before I leave our bedroom to check on our children.

The dinner party and the praise bestowed on me and my career have me on such a high that I'm not ready for sleep just yet anyway.

**0040**

Harm reaches for me and pulls me to him when I get into bed.

I'm surprised that, as much as he's had to drink, Harm is still awake.

"I love you, Mrs. Rabb," he whispers to me, bringing a smile to my face.

"I love you, too," I reply as I snuggle in close to him.

I close my eyes and drift to sleep, knowing that, at some point, I'll miss my career, but being a mother to our children and a wife to Harm is the job that I want to devote my time to right now.

Besides, it's a feeling like no other to know that you not only walked away for the right reasons, but that you walked away while still at the top of your game.


	57. Chapter 57

**CHAPTER THIRTY - STUCK WITH ME**

**PART ONE**

**TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**1512**

**HARM'S POV**

I'm home early, so I'm not surprised that no one greets me when I enter the house, but once I make it into the foyer and no one has even called out from the other room, inquiring as to who's come in, I decide to go to our bedroom to change clothes before seeking out my wife and finding out how Tyler and Sami's visit to the doctor went, but I don't make it even to the hallway leading to the bedrooms before I hear her voice.

"Did you really think that you could sneak into the house?"

I turn around so that I can look her in the eye.

"I did, but only during a moment of memory lapse..." She looks confused, so I add, "...when I didn't remember that I'm married to a Marine," I offer in explanation as I step closer to her.

"Do you often forget that you're married?" she asks with a smile.

I slip my arms around her and pull her to me.

"I never forget that I'm married," I say before I lower my lips to hers.

After I place a quick kiss on her lips, I continue, "It's the Marine part that I block out," I say, shuddering for effect.

My dramatics are rewarded by a playful slap on my arm while she informs me, "Well, it's too late to change your mind now. You're stuck with me."

"I'm glad to hear it because, Marine or not, I'm crazy about you," I say before pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that quickly becomes heated. However, the moment between us is broken when Sami's call fills the air.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Mac and I force ourselves to pull apart at the sound of Sami's shouting.

Mac looks as disappointed as I feel about our stolen moment alone being interrupted, but there's no point in dwelling on what was. I want to find out how their visit to the doctor went this afternoon anyway.

"Since she's so vocal, I take it that her doctor's visit went well this afternoon?"

"He said that she'll be fine but that her on again/off again fevers are being caused by an ear infection, pretty common and nothing to worry about. He prescribed an antibiotic that should take care of it. She's on the couch, covered up and getting everyone to wait on her because the doctor said that she's sick."

"I'll bet that she's really eating up the extra attention," I comment.

"Mommy!" Impatience is clear in Sami's voice.

"Oh, she is. I should go check on her," she says before turning to head into the living room.

"Wait..." I say, catching her elbow with my hand. "...I want to hear what the doctor said about Tyler."

She turns to face me.

"After a complete exam, including blood work and asking me to leave the room so that he could speak to him, guy-to-guy, the best that he could come up with was that he might be constipated."

"He might be...?" I say with skepticism.

"The doctor said that their talk didn't yield any information that would make him suspect that the stomachaches are a physical manifestation of some emotional issue. However, the exam and tests didn't reveal any health concerns, so based solely on the fact that Ty couldn't remember the last time that he had a bowel movement, he said that he might be constipated."

"Do you think that's what's been causing his stomachaches?" I ask, the diagnosis not sounding legitimate to me and wanting to know if she feels the same way.

"I don't know, but the doctor didn't find anything." Her tone says that she isn't convinced that there's nothing wrong with Tyler, and she falls silent for a few seconds before starting to speak again. "Maybe the doctor didn't ask the right questions. He's acquired two sisters and a baby brother this year...that might be too much change too soon for him. Maybe the next time the two of you work on the dollhouse, you could talk to him about it and see if that has anything to do with his stomachaches."

"Mom...me-e-e, where are you?" Sami's voice is piercing the air again.

"I'll go check on her while you change," Mac says to me before turning to leave for the living room.

**LIVING ROOM**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

I'm standing in the archway that marks the transition between the foyer and the living room, looking at Sami. She's covered in her ladybug blanket and holding one of her stuffed bears to her chest while lying back on a pillow and watching TV. She's enjoying being sick.

The children are watching a cartoon and don't notice me standing there, but my wife spies me when she enters the living room from the direction of the kitchen.

"Here's the juice you wanted, Sami," she says while winking at me, bringing me to the attention of the children.

"Dad, you're home early," Tyler says to me.

"Yep, I had a chance to get away from the office and I took it. I missed you guys and I wanted to see how you and your sister's checkups went today."

"I'm sick, so I got medicine, Daddy," Sami pipes up to get my attention.

"Have you taken your medicine so you can get better?" I ask her as I move farther into the living room.

"Yep! Tastes like bubble gum."

"She'll need another dose before bed," Mac informs me as I move closer to Tyler, who's sitting in the chair next to the couch.

"What about you, Tyler? What did the doctor say about your stomachaches?"

"He didn't tell me anything. He talked to Momma, but I didn't get any medicine, so I guess I'm not sick."

I believe him when he says that his stomach hurts, but if the doctor didn't find anything...what am I suppose to say to him? Then I remember a time when I had the flu, and the doctor told me to go home, get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids.

"They don't always give you medicine when you're sick," I explain to Sami, Tyler and Abigail, who's sitting there and taking all of this in.

"They don't? Why?" Sami asks.

Leave it to a three-year-old to want to know why. However, judging by the way the other two children have their eyes on me, all of them want to hear the answer.

"Because, in your blood, there are germ fighters that work as good or better than medicine that the doctor can give you for some things."

"Then why do I need medicine?" Sami asks.

"Because you don't have just any germs, you have an infection..."

"And 'fections need medicine," Sami finishes for me.

"That's right." I say, proud that I've been able to explain the situation.

"So, I'm going to feel better soon?" Ty asks.

"You should, but if you don't, we'll just have to take you back to the doctor and tell him that you aren't feeling any better and that he needs to find out why you still aren't feeling well."

"If I have to go back to the doctor, will you take me, Dad?" Ty asks.

"Yes. If you don't start to feel better soon, I'll take you," I say before getting an idea. "Ty, how are you feeling right now?" I ask him.

"Okay. Why?"

"I was thinking that, since I'm home early and, if you're feeling okay, you and I could make dinner for the ladies. What do you say?"

"Sure, I'll go make sure that Gee Gee hasn't started anything yet," he answers, jumping to his feet and heading off to the kitchen.

I look at Mac and then at Sami and Abigail. "Do any of you ladies have any requests for dinner?"

"Something good," Sami answers, and Abigail just nods in agreement, but Mac doesn't let me off the hook that easily.

"I'll eat anything except Harm's Meatless Meatloaf," she says with a straight face before bursting out laughing.

I give her a look, and she starts to bite her lip to keep from laughing any more, but I can tell that she's struggling to keep her laughter inside.

"Why don't you want Harm's Meatless Meatloaf?" Abigail asks.

I decide that there's no point in trying to get Mac not to tell the story ... but that doesn't mean that I have to stay here and listen to her tell it.

"I'm going to go to the kitchen. I'll send my grandmother and Ty in here so you'll have to tell the story only once. When you're finished with the story, send my helper back into the kitchen. I should have some idea of what we'll be having by the time he gets back in there."

I shake my head as I move to the kitchen. She's never going to let me live down that meatloaf.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2152**

In just the few days since she's been retired, Mac seems more relaxed, and it seems easier for her to give me time with Matthew.

Maybe it's because she gets to spend the majority of the day with him now and that eases her mind, or maybe it's the article that she read over the weekend in a parents' magazine that said that father's don't get to bond with their babies the way they should, and that's why she's turned the last feeding of the night over to me.

I don't think that I'll admit it to Mac, but, in just the three days that I've been giving Matthew a bottle before I head to bed, I've found that I'm more at peace and able to fall asleep much more easily. I don't know if my time with him is that beneficial to him, but it certainly seems to be good for me.

"Are you okay?" Mac asks when I enter the bedroom.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"You just had this strange look on your face, that's all."

"I was just lost in thought."

"What were you thinking about?"

Not wanting to admit how much I've enjoyed my time with Matthew these last three evenings, I make a more generic statement.

"How much I love my family." I then pause before adding, "I think that I should take the boys off your hands this Saturday, and then the next Saturday, we'll switch, and I'll take the girls. What do you think?"

"That's sounds like a good idea. What are you going to do with the boys?"

"That's easy ... hang out around here. Tyler and I can work on the dollhouse pretty much all day if we aren't trying to avoid getting anyone's curiosity up about why we're spending so much time in the garage. We can take breaks around Matthew's schedule."

"When do you think that you'll have the dollhouse finished?" Mac asks as I slip into bed beside her.

"We don't have a lot left to do, so, if we get to put in a few hours on it Saturday, we might be able to finish it this weekend. If we do get it done this weekend, maybe he and I can work on making some furniture for it during the remaining weekends that we'll have before Christmas."

"You do know that you can buy furniture, don't you?"

"Yes, I know, but once this project is done, I want us to have something to do together."

She rolls into my arms and places a kiss on my chest.

"Harm, you have models to put together with him. It'll be spring soon, and you'll take him to baseball games again. You two will have your time together."

"Will we? I'm due for a transfer this spring. What if I get shipped off to Timbuktu?"

"I don't think that there _is_ a JAG office in Timbuktu," she says before I feel warm puffs of air coming from her mouth as she laughs softly. "Harm, wherever you're transferred, we'll follow you. If you happen to be transferred somewhere that we can't go with you, then we'll do like every other deployed military family. We'll write, email, make phone calls and see you when you can get leave. We'll miss you, but we'll get through it."

I hadn't realized how much my pending transfer had been on my mind until it came out of my mouth.

Though I've never been one to share how I'm feeling, I must say that, now that I've told Mac, I do feel some better to have it out in the open and to hear that I have her support.

Mac snuggles in closer to me, and I hold on to her a little tighter.

The comfort that she offers is welcome, and we lay in silence for a few minutes.

"Did Tyler say something to you while you were making dinner that has you worried that he wouldn't be able to handle you being away?" she asks.

"No. In fact, he didn't say much of anything, and we talked a little bit about everything from school to his siblings to your uncle's visit last weekend to Gee Gee being here."

"That sounds like a pretty thorough list, and he didn't say anything that might be a hint as to something that could be upsetting him enough to make his stomach hurt?"

"Nothing, unless you think that he feels badly because Cocoa didn't get to come here with Gee Gee," I inform her.

"Do you think that he's upset that she's been here for so long?"

"No, I asked him directly about that. He said that he loves having Gee Gee here, but next time, he thought that Cocoa would like it better if she got to come, too."

"Do you think that he wants a dog?" Mac asks.

"That's something that I didn't ask. I guess that's something that he and I can talk about on Saturday." I pause for a moment and then ask, "What are you going to do with the girls?"

"I'm not sure, yet. I'll have to give it some thought."

"While you're thinking about that, try to figure out something that I can do with them next Saturday while you're at it. They're so different. I don't want to take one to do something that the other would hate. So help me out a little and think of something or, while you have them, find out what they'd like to do with Dad, okay?"

"I'll see what I can do," Mac says in a sleepy voice.

"Yeah, I'm ready to get some shut eye, too," I say through a yawn.

Mac lifts her head off my chest, and we give each other a sweet kiss good night.

"Good night," she says while returning her head to my chest.

"G' night," I mumble back, already too close to sleep to speak more clearly.

**WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0630**

I come in from the backyard where I've just finished my morning swim, and my nostrils are filled with the aroma of coffee brewing.

In a hurry to get into a warm shower, but not wanting to be rude, I offer, "Good morning, Grandma" to the woman who started the coffee and, if it's like every other morning since she's been here, some kind of breakfast is already in the works, too.

"Good morning to you, Harmon."

"Grandma..." I say in a voice that indicates that I dislike her using my complete first name.

"If you want my homemade cranberry bran muffins warm out of the oven, be back in fifteen minutes, Harm," she says with a smile.

"Thanks, Grandma," I say over my shoulder, heading for the master bedroom.

I don't see Mac in our bedroom or the baby monitor on the night table, so I guess that she's in the nursery as I pass through our bedroom, heading to the bathroom for that warm shower.

When I exit the bathroom a few minutes later, Mac is sitting on the bed with her back to me.

"Hey," I say.

She turns her head to look at me.

"Good morning," she says before turning back to whatever had her attention before I came into the room, but a few seconds later, she's lifting the object of her interest up off the bed and into my view. "Are you ready to say good morning to Daddy, Matthew?"

My son makes a cooing sound.

"Good morning to you, too," I say, reaching to take him from Mac. "How's my baby boy this morning?"

He coos some more, and I can't believe how much that little noise means to me.

"I'm feeling better this morning, too," I say to the baby in my arms.

I look up to see that Mac has slipped off her robe.

"If you two can keep each other company for a few minutes, I'll take a quick shower."

"He and I can go wake up the other children for breakfast," I say.

"No need, I've already done that. They'll probably beat us to the table, and your grandmother is there to get them started on breakfast if we're late. I'm really going to miss having her around when she goes home after Christmas."

"Mac, about that...you know how she's said a couple of times that she's really enjoying the weather here."

"Yeah...you want her to stay with us, don't you?"

"Not permanently, I don't think that she'd agree to it even if we asked, but I was thinking about asking her to stay a bit longer, maybe until the end of February or the first of March."

"Until Pennsylvania starts to thaw out a little?" she says with a smile.

"Exactly," I answer. "What do you think, Matthew? Should we ask Gee Gee to stay longer?"

He coos again.

"I've got one yes vote."

"What about Cocoa?" she asks as she moves into the bathroom, leaving the door open so that we can finish our discussion.

"That's the part that I really needed to ask you about. Did you know that dogs can fly on planes, too?"

"I did. So you want to fly Cocoa out here to stay with us while she's here?"

"I was thinking that having her here might be good for everyone. My grandmother might stay longer if she didn't feel that she was imposing on anyone there for Cocoa's care. I know that Ty would love to have Cocoa around and I'm sure that the girls would like to meet her. We could use it as a trial run to see if getting a dog for our family is a good idea, though we'd probably want to wait until after we get to our next duty station to get one."

"When are you planning to ask her to stay?" she asks before starting the water.

Now that the water is running, I move closer to the bathroom door so that we can hear each other better before I respond to her question.

"What are you doing today?"

"Lafferty is coming by this morning to get my input on the Ballinger case, and Peggy is coming over for lunch this afternoon. Why?"

"Because if you weren't busy, I was going to suggest that you get my mom or Frank to stay with the children for a couple of hours and I'd take you and my grandmother out to lunch today. I don't want to ask her to stay with the kids around in case she says no."

"Not asking her in front of the children is a good idea, but today isn't good for me, so it'll have to be tomorrow or Friday. No, Friday won't work. I have my doctor's appointment on Friday morning. Tomorrow would better anyway. Your mother and Frank have already volunteered to take the children for the day instead of just a few hours in the afternoon, and I don't think that it would take too much arm twisting to get them to watch Matthew for a couple of hours, too, while we come to have lunch with you."

"Then tomorrow it is," I say before closing the door, allowing her to shower in peace and quiet while I indulge in a few extra minutes with the youngest Rabb.

**2150**

The lackluster kiss that I got in greeting from Mac when I got home from work bothered me, but I was willing to chalk it up to my timing. I did enter the kitchen to get a kiss while she was trying to help my grandmother make dinner. However, the lack of her usual level of involvement in the conversation about everyone's day around the family dinner table let me know that something was on her mind.

I went to our bedroom after putting Matthew to bed, wanting to talk to Mac about her day, but she wasn't there. After checking to see if she was in any of the children's rooms, I bumped into my grandmother in the hall, who informed me that she'd seen her go into the den after they'd said their good nights a little while ago.

I head to the den, trying not to jump to conclusions about the reason for her distant mood.

I rationalize that it doesn't have to be about her meeting with Lafferty and missing her job. It could have something to do with her lunch with Peggy.

'I'll start by asking about her lunch with Peggy,' I think as I turn the knob on the den door.

When I open the door, I spy an open file on the desk and Mac engrossed in reading a piece of paper in her hand.

I decide that I should leave her to her work and I step back, pulling the door closed as I do, but before the door clicks closed, I hear her speak my name.

"Harm..." I push the door back open and, when she sees me, she continues, "Did you come to tell me that you're ready for bed?" she asks.

"I wanted to talk to you, but you looked busy, so I thought that I'd just go wait for you in bed."

"I'm never too busy for you," she says with a warm smile that helps to alleviate my fears. "What did you want to talk about?"

I step inside the room. "You just weren't very forthcoming about your day at dinner, so I wanted to know if it's because the details weren't suitable for the children to hear."

She starts to put the papers on her desk into a folder as she speaks. "I didn't want to tell everyone over dinner that Peggy told me that she and Dan have been separated for almost two months. I think that's why she was so insistent about buying your Corvette. She thought that it would cure her marital woes. Anyway, she told me over lunch that counseling hasn't been going well and that a divorce doesn't seem out of the question at this point."

She closes the folder and looks up at me.

"I didn't want to bring up the topic of divorce around the children. If Ty's stomachaches are caused by nerves, anxiety or stress, I was afraid that he might get fixated on the divorce part and get worried that it could happen to us."

"But it won't happen to us because you're stuck with me," I say as she comes around the desk. "Right?"

"That's correct," she says with that reassuring smile of hers as she slips her arms around my waist.

My head lowers until my mouth claims hers in a kiss like none that we've shared in recent weeks.

When the need for air forces us to break our kiss, she says breathlessly, "You haven't kissed me like that in a long time. I was beginning to think that you'd lost interest in me."

"Not going to happen...I just didn't want to start something that we couldn't finish, but tonight I just thought that you needed to know that I love being married to you."

"This interest in our marriage doesn't have to do with their divorce news, does it?" she asks.

My eyes drift involuntarily over to her desk while I try to find the words to explain.

Her hand touches my cheek, moving my head until I'm once again looking at her before she speaks.

"My mind has been on that case tonight, too, but it's because I think that the case is shaky and I want to find the truth." She gives me a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm not regretting that I left the Corps."

Our lips come together, and another heated kiss ensues.

When our lips part again, she whispers, "I don't regret marrying you either."

"I don't regret marrying you," I whisper, trying to control the desire to scoop her up and take her to bed, sleep not on my mind.

She's regained her composure and speaks again in a normal tone of voice.

"Now, let's get you into bed. You've got to get some sleep. You have to work in the morning," she says as she releases her hold on me.

I offer a consenting nod, hoping that I can get to sleep without having to take a cold shower first.

"Let me tell you about the case to get your mind off of other things..." she says, her eyes dropping momentarily to let me know that she's very aware of my desire for her tonight before looking back up at me. "...so you can _relax_ and get to sleep."

"I'm consulting on a murder case," she begins as she takes my hand and we start to move towards our destination. "The victim was Corporal Wendy Messings. She was stabbed six times. No one knife wound was fatal, but the accumulative result was that she bled to death. The accused is Corporal Janis Ballinger. The witness, Sergeant John Morgan, didn't see Ballinger stab the victim. His statement is that he came into the house and found Ballinger kneeling down next to the body with a knife in her hand."

"What does Ballinger say?" I ask, now interested in the case as we enter our bedroom.

"That she came in from her evening run and saw the victim on the floor. She went over to check for a pulse and saw the knife next to her body. Not thinking, she picked up the knife, but she didn't stab her roommate."

"Her roommate?"

"Yes, the victim and the accused were roommates. The witness is a third roommate's boyfriend, who was coming over to see his girlfriend."

"So where was the third roommate during all of this?" I ask as we slip into bed.

"She says that she was taking a shower, getting ready for her date and didn't hear a thing."

"So what is the prosecution claiming is the motive for the murder?" I ask as Mac and I start to get into our familiar sleeping position.

"Their contention is that they had a history of clashing over various things. There was a message on their answering machine from a man in whom both ladies appear to share an interest, asking if the deceased was going to be at the E Club that night. The prosecution's stance is that hearing that message was the last straw and that Ballinger confronted her roommate when she came in from work. Then things got heated, and she attacked her with the first weapon that she could get her hands on, a butcher knife in the kitchen."

"Their case sounds plausible, but legally, circumstantial at best," I say, mulling over the things about the case that she's just told me.

"Exactly, and that's why I wanted to be involved in the case."

"You could've assigned it to someone with more current courtroom experience," I say, questioning her decision to give the case to Lafferty.

"I could have, but I figured that Lafferty would be looking to impress his new CO and that he'd work hard, even if that meant asking for help or taking advice in order to do it. It isn't that he's never investigated or tried a case. He's just been stuck behind a desk at NCIS for a couple of years. His record before that was pretty good, very good in fact."

"So you checked," I say teasingly.

"Of course, I did," she says, snuggling into my side.

"I'm sure if you sleep on it and look the case over in the morning with a clear mind and fresh eyes, you'll find something. So let's get some sleep."

"Mmm hmm," she mumbles, apparently already drifting off.

"Good night," I say before kissing her on the forehead and closing my eyes, waiting for sleep to claim me as well.


	58. Chapter 58

**PART TWO **

**THURSDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**0952**

With only two hours until a car and driver will come to take me to board a plane, the thought of leaving my family, even if for only a couple of days, is weighing heavily on me as I pull my SUV into the driveway.

Based on the stories around the dinner table this week, after the breakfast dishes are cleared, our dining room table becomes the center of some kind of activity for the children. So I enter the house and proceed immediately to the dining room, prepared to join in on whatever activity is taking place today, but the room is quiet.

In fact, it dawns on me that the whole house is quiet…too quiet. It's at that moment, alone in the dining room in a quiet house that my mind reconciles two pieces of information that I knew before now, but hadn't put together - Thursday is the day that my parents were taking the children for the day and today is Thursday, meaning that my children aren't here.

Faint sounds coming from the kitchen catch my attention. I move quickly in that direction, hoping that I'll be able to see at least part of my family before the car comes for me.

As I get closer and closer to the kitchen, the noise that I hear becomes clearer and clearer, and I can tell that the sounds are voices.

Before I reach the doorway, I can even make out the fact that the voices belong to my grandmother and Mac.

When I peek around the door frame, I see that Mac and my grandmother are sitting at the table, chatting away.

"Hello, Ladies," I say with a fake smile plastered on my face as I step into the kitchen.

The way that my grandmother puts her hand over her heart, I know that I've startled her by my unexpected arrival.

"Hello, Harm. To what do we owe the pleasure of you being home this early?" she asks after she's had a moment to catch her breath.

Mac's reaction is much different. She immediately jumps to her feet and moves towards me. My guess is that she knows or at least suspects that my smile isn't genuine.

Mac and I meet halfway across the kitchen, and she looks me in the eye before she asks, "We were supposed to meet you for lunch, so why are you home so early? What's happened? What's wrong?"

"The house is so quiet. The children must already be at my parents?"

I was trying to make an observation, but the way the words leave my mouth, it sounds more like I'm questioning their location.

"They are…except for Matthew. I was supposed to drop him off on our way to meet you for lunch," Mac answers before her tone becomes laced with concern, and she asks me again, "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I reply while my hands come to rest on her hips. "What's happened is that I've been summoned to Washington for a meeting with the SecNav."

Her hands come to rest on my chest before she asks. "What does the Secretary of the Navy want to discuss with you?"

I shrug my shoulders as I reply, "I have no idea why he wants to meet with me."

"Then I guess you'll find out when you meet with him." She sighs and then asks, "When do you have to be in Washington?"

"A car will be here for me in two hours. I fly out this afternoon, meet with the SecNav tomorrow and fly back on Saturday."

"That's only a couple of days. That isn't so bad," she says reassuringly before placing her lips on mine.

The kiss is short and sweet, but she manages to convey her love and support with it.

When she pulls her lips from mine, the softness in her eyes tells me that she understands that I'm torn between my duty and my family.

After a moment of gazing into each other's eyes, Mac breaks the silence.

"I'm going to go call your mother to find out if they're home or out somewhere with the children. I'll be right back," she says as she runs her hand soothingly along my arm before she leaves the kitchen.

Once Mac has left the room, my grandmother, who's been sitting at the table witnessing my exchange with my wife, speaks, "She's perfect for you, you know."

"I think so," I say as I move to join her at the table.

"Well, why wouldn't you? She's smart, and that keeps you intellectually interested. She's strong-willed, and that means that she can stand her ground with you. You need that. A woman who said yes to your every whim would bore you after a while."

I sit down across from her, listening to my grandmother's observations of the woman I married.

"Of course, there's her beauty, which attracted you and keeps you physically interested. Then there's the really big one. She's taken time to learn about you, who you are underneath that slick smile and ego-driven fighter pilot bravado that you hid behind for so many years. I'm glad that you finally let down your guard, though I'm not sure that you had much of a say in the matter."

"I didn't have much of a say in the matter...what do you mean by that, Grandma?"

"In my day, we would've said that the two of you were soul mates - that your match was made in heaven - but I don't think that people talk about love like that anymore. I guess a modern way to describe it is to say that the two of you share a rare and special connection that someone has to see in order to understand because there's just no way to describe it. Take for instance what happened just a few moments ago when you came in with your news. She knew that you wanted to see your children before you had to leave, but you never said a word to that effect. Yet, she's off calling your mother to find out if she can make it happen for you."

"What can I say? I'm a lucky guy."

"Yes, you are, and I want you to make me a promise. I want you to promise me that you won't take her love for granted and that, when you hit rough seas in your life, you'll hold onto her a little tighter and always remember that you're a lucky man to have her at your side."

There's sadness in her eyes as she stares at me, waiting for my response. I know that there must be a heartbreaking story to go with the look, but I don't feel comfortable asking her what it is, so I merely reply to her plea.

I reach for her hand that's resting on the table.

"I promise, Grandma," I say before giving her hand a little squeeze.

I can tell that she's fighting back tears as she offers a nod to acknowledge that she heard me make the promise.

"Did you ask her without me?" Mac asks as she enters the room.

She must think that my grandmother's emotional state is because I've asked her to stay longer.

"No, I haven't asked her yet."

"Then what were the two of you talking about?" Mac asks as she moves towards the table where my grandmother and I are seated.

"We were talking about you," I say as Mac reaches us. "My grandmother was telling me that you're a very special woman and perfect for me, so I'd better not mess up my relationship with you."

"I did not say that, Harmon," my grandmother says incredulously.

"Not so bluntly, but in your own way, you most certainly did," I say, almost challenging her to deny it.

My grandmother looks at Mac.

"It's true." My grandmother's open admission takes me by surprise. "You're perfect for him, and he'd better not screw it up ... to put it in today's terminology," she says with a smile to lighten the mood.

I look at Mac, and there's a blush on her cheeks. She's uncomfortable with being the topic of the conversation.

"Well, if you didn't ask her while I was gone, now seems like a good time, especially since it looks like we'll be having lunch here instead of meeting you somewhere, and the kids _are_ with your parents," Mac comments and, just like that, the subject is changed.

"I think that now is a good time, too," I say, reaching out for Mac and guiding her down onto my lap.

Once she's sitting on my lap, we direct our attention to my grandmother.

"Grandma, have you been enjoying your visit with us?" I ask.

"Yes, dear. How could I not enjoy being with my grandson and his family?" she says with a big smile.

Mac then takes over the conversation.

"Well, we're glad that you're enjoying your stay because Harm and I have been talking about how nice it is to have you here. In fact, it's been so nice having you here that we'd like for you to stay longer."

"How much longer did you have in mind?" my grandmother asks, a little taken aback.

"We were hoping to persuade you to stay well into the New Year. I'm due for a transfer in late March or early April. That long works for me," I say, grinning at her.

I know that there's no way that she's going to agree to stay that long, but I figure that I'm offering a good place to start negotiations if she'll consider staying with us longer at all.

Mac, anticipating her first objection, is ready for part two of our argument.

"Before you say no because of Cocoa, let me tell you that Harm and I have talked about that, too, because we know that you wouldn't want to impose on the Thompsons. So, of course, we'd pay to fly her out here."

Mac stops talking. It's my turn again. We make a great tag team.

"I've researched it online, and air travel is safe for animals. As far as having Cocoa here, Mac and I think that it would be great for the kids to have her around and that her visit would give Mac and me insight on whether a family dog would be something that we should consider getting in the future."

"I see. It seems like the two of you have given this a lot of thought," my grandmother comments with a look on her face that tells me that she's giving our request serious consideration.

"We have," Mac and I say in unison.

"I don't know about three of four more months though..." Her voice trails off, and the length of her pause makes me wonder if she's going to shut down the idea completely, but after several long moments, she speaks again. "...but if the offer is good if I stayed until say mid to late February, until the temperatures in Pennsylvania typically are out of the single digits, I think that I could easily be talked into staying into the New Year."

"Then it's settled. You're staying," I say.

"I'll start making calls this afternoon to make arrangements to fly Cocoa out here," Mac adds.

"You sure that you can put up with me that long?" my grandmother asks.

"We're sure," Mac and I again say in unison.

My grandmother smiles before she asks, "Do the two of you want me to watch Matthew while you go over to see the other children or is Trish bringing them over here?"

"We're supposed to go over there. I thought that it would be easier on the children if we dropped in on them over there instead of shuffling them back and forth between the houses, but I don't see any reason why we can't all go," Mac answers.

"No reason to wake the baby. I'll stay here with him," my grandmother offers.

"We didn't ask you to stay so that you could be a babysitter. We like your company," Mac states, sounding worried that our invitation for her to stay with us is being interrupted as a request for babysitting services.

"I know, and you didn't ask me to babysit with Matthew now. I volunteered." She waves off any further argument from Mac by lifting her hand in a stop gesture as she continues to speak. "It's no trouble. He'll sleep until he's ready to eat again. So, I really just have to keep an ear out for him. I just need to know if you want me to give him a bottle when he wakes up or just keep him occupied until you get back."

"Harm has less than two hours before the car comes for him." Mac looks away from my grandmother to me. "How much time do you think you'll need to pack for the trip?"

"I keep a basic bag packed: t-shirts, socks, underwear and a shaving kit, but, since I'm wearing my khakis, I'll need to pack my dress blues for my meeting with the SecNav and, DC in December can be very cold, so my overcoat and gloves might come in handy, too. I guess, to answer your question, I have some packing to do, but it shouldn't take long," I inform her.

Mac then looks back at my grandmother. "Matthew won't be ready to eat again for another forty-five minutes, give or take. Since he needs time to pack before the car arrives, I'd say that we'll be back by the time Matthew is ready to eat again. So, if he wakes up, just keep him company until we get back."

"Will do. Now go," my grandmother says while waving her hands in a shooing motion.

Mac gets up from my lap.

My grandmother's hands are still shooing us away.

"We're going. We're going," I say as I stand before taking Mac's hand and leaving the kitchen with her.

**BURNETT HOME**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

We haven't been in the house but a few seconds before Sami comes running towards me.

"Daddy," she squeals, her voice returning to normal as she continues, "Grandma said that you were coming." She raises her arms in a request to be picked up.

"Daddy's here," she yells over her shoulder to notify the others as I reach down and lift her into my arms.

Once up where she can look me in the eye, her facial expression changes from excitement to confused or worried. "It can't be time to go home. I not had my nap. You early. You sick, Daddy?" she asks.

"No, Ladybug, I'm not sick," I say before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Abigail comes up to us, and Sami announces, "Daddy's here early, but he not sick."

"Then why are you here so early?" Abigail looks terrified as she asks her next two questions. "Has something bad happened? Is Gee Gee okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. Everyone's fine," Mac says in that reassuring tone that she uses as she takes Abigail's hand.

"Let's find Tyler first so that Daddy can tell all of you at once," Mac suggests.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1110**

When we got back from seeing our other children, Matthew was awake and keeping my grandmother company.

Mac offered to pack my uniform while I fed Matthew since I wouldn't be home to take my turn tonight, and, of course, I jumped at the opportunity.

With Matthew fed and back to sleep, I head to our bedroom to see if Mac needs any assistance and to thank her for giving up a feeding so that I could have some time with our baby as well before I leave.

When I enter our bedroom, Mac is standing with her back to me, allowing me to walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her.

"You ought to be glad that I'm a Navy sympathizer. Otherwise, I'd have you on the floor with my foot on your throat for sneaking up on me," she says as she turns around in my loose embrace.

"I wasn't trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to distract you. I'd have grabbed you tighter if I was sneaking up on you." I retort, trying to keep the banter with her going.

She smiles softly.

"You've been away before. We'll be fine."

"I know," I reply softly, knowing that my attempt to mask my apprehension about leaving has failed.

"Then what's wrong, Harm? You've been so quiet since we left your mother's. I thought that you handled it perfectly, by the way. You told them that you had to leave for a couple of days, making them a little upset, and then you told them that Gee Gee was staying longer and that Cocoa was coming for a visit."

"They did seem awfully excited to hear that Cocoa was coming for a visit, didn't they?"

"Is that what's wrong? Did you feel forgotten about because they got so excited about Cocoa coming?"

"No. In fact, I was glad to see Tyler excited about something. He's been so down lately that I was happy to see him animated about anything."

"I know what you mean. He's usually like himself in the mornings, but, by midday, he looks run down. If he takes a nap, he gets up and seems fine, but by late afternoon, he's back to being sluggish ... and it really concerns me that he didn't eat much breakfast this morning. Even when he's looked exhausted, his appetite has been okay. This morning, I think Abigail ate more than he did."

"And the doctor couldn't find anything wrong with him?" I state more like a question.

"That's what the doctor said."

"Well, I don't care what he says. There _is_ something wrong with him. If he isn't doing better by the time I get back, I'll take him to the doctor."

"I think you should...and speaking of doctors...if my appointment goes okay tomorrow, I'll be able to give you a proper welcome home, Sailor." She says the latter in that seductive purr of hers.

I'd forgotten about her checkup tomorrow, but the idea of being able to make love to my wife when I return has the corners of my mouth starting to take an upward turn. If I wasn't so worried about my son, I'd have a smile on my face.

"All of a sudden, I'm looking forward to leaving ... just so I can come back," I say before I put my lips on hers.

The kiss is searing and must end, but it isn't broken until we realize that we have to stop.

"I love you," Mac says breathlessly before resting her cheek against my chest.

"And I love you," I whisper back, holding her firmly against me.

We stay like that for several minutes, and then knowing that there's nothing more to say or anything more that we can do before I have to leave, we let go of each other.

I pick up my bag in one hand and take Mac's hand in the other, and we move to the living room to talk with my grandmother until my car arrives.

**BEAUMONT HOTEL **

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**LOCAL 2230, PACIFIC 1930**

I get an answer on the third ring.

"Hello, Rabb residence." I hear my wife say in a soft voice.

"Hey, Mac, it's me."

"I thought it might be. I just got Sami into the tub, but Abigail is here with me, so let me put her on first."

Oddly, Mac sounds extremely happy. I wonder if she's glad that I'm out from underfoot.

"Hi, Harm," a sweet young voice says, pulling me from my thoughts of my very happy-sounding wife.

"Hi, Abigail, how was your piano lesson?" I ask, wishing that she'd stop calling me Harm. Just one 'daddy' would give me hope that someday she'd see me as her dad.

"Fine. My teacher says that she wants me to be in the Christmas recital. Grandma and Grandpa said that they'd come to hear me play. Momma said that she'd come, too. Will you come?"

"I'd like to, if you want me to be there, and as long as the Navy doesn't have other plans for me."

"Momma said that you were going to talk to a very important guy in charge of Navy stuff, so tell him that my recital is on the 22nd so you can't be away then, okay?"

Her comment makes me smile.

"I'll try to work that into our conversation tomorrow, but I don't know if he can promise me that I won't have to be away that day."

"It's my turn to get into the tub. Momma says that you should talk to Sami now."

"Okay, Princess, I'll see you on Saturday. I love you."

"I love you, too, Daddy," my tired little ladybug replies.

I wonder if Abigail heard any of what I said before she handed the phone to Sami.

"How's my ladybug?"

"I'm sleepy."

"You all ready for bed then?"

"Yep."

"Then good night, Ladybug. I'll see you on Saturday."

"Okay, Daddy. Saturday. Mommy wants to talk to you now. Bye."

"Bye."

"It's me," Mac says cheerfully.

"I was wondering if you sounded so happy because I was gone, but after speaking with Abigail, I don't think that it has anything to do with me. If I counted correctly, she called you momma three times during our short little talk."

"Yes, it was the strangest thing. Your grandmother and I went over to your parents' for dinner, nothing unusual there, but when Abigail saw me tonight, she looked up at me with the brightest smile and said, 'Momma, are you here to take us home?' I said 'yes, after we have dinner...'" I can hear the smile in her voice as she relays the story. "...and she's been calling me momma ever since. Weird isn't it...but wonderful." Mac takes a breath. "I'm sorry, Harm. Here I am rambling on about our daughter calling me momma when she hasn't called you daddy even once yet."

"It's okay. I'm glad that she's accepting one of us, at least - that's progress...and she did ask me to come to her recital. So, maybe I'm not as far down the list of people who she likes as I use to be, right?" I say, finding it hard to make it sound like I truly believe that it's a positive sign.

"That's right. In fact, I'd say that you're up higher on her list than you think," she says, sounding positive.

"What makes you say that?" I ask curiously.

"Because, after she shocked me by calling me momma when I got there, she was full of questions about if you'd be safe where you were going and why you had to go there. When I told her that you had to go to meet with the Secretary of the Navy, she had questions about who he was and why he wanted to talk to you."

"That's where she got that I was meeting with an important guy in the Navy. Did you hear her tell me that I need to tell him that the Navy can't send me anywhere on the 22nd because I have her recital to attend?"

I can hear her chuckling on the other end. "Sorry about that. I guess I didn't do such a good job of explaining his position to her, but if it comes up in conversation, be sure to tell him that you have a recital to attend and that we want you home for Christmas, too. Tell him that I'd be willing to give up Valentine's Day if he'd make sure that you're home for every anniversary and..." She's laughing harder now.

"You're really having a good time with this, aren't you?"

Her laughter is infectious, and I find myself starting to chuckle at the thought of me saying any of that to the SecNav.

"Maybe a little," she admits.

After a few moments of listening to her laugh, I start to ask about our sons.

"Is Tyler feeling any better?"

"He's about the same. He's curled up on the couch asleep now. I don't know if I should wake him or not. I'm sure if I don't, he'll be upset that he missed talking to you, but he needs to rest. I'm not even sure if I want to move him. If he's comfortable there, I hate to disturb him. He really needs to get a good night's sleep and, if it isn't in his bed, so be it."

"No, don't wake him. Just make sure that he knows that I wanted to talk to him, but that I thought that he needed the rest so that he and I can do something together when I get home ... and tell him that I love and miss him."

"I'll tell him all that."

"How's Matthew?" I ask.

"He's fine. I'm sure that he's going to be upset that you aren't here for his nightly feeding, but I'll make sure that he knows that you miss being able to give him his bottle and that you love and miss him."

"I miss you, too," I say, wondering when I turned into such a family man that a night away from home turns me into such a sap.

"I miss you, too, but -"

"- But it's time to read Sami a story so she'll go to sleep. I know. Give her a hug and kiss good night from me," I say, cutting her off and finishing her sentence for her.

"I will."

"Good night, Mac."

"Good night, Harm."


	59. Chapter 59

**PART THREE **

**FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2007**

**SECRETARY OF THE NAVY'S OFFICE**

**PENTAGON**

**PACIFIC TIME - 1000 / LOCAL TIME - 1300 **

**HARM'S POV**

"Captain Rabb, sorry to keep you waiting, but my previous meeting ran longer than expected. Please have a seat," the SecNav says from a standing position behind his desk.

"Thank you, Sir."

He picks up a fairly thick file off his desk.

"I've been reading up on you, Captain. Your service record is a very interesting read," he says, waving the file in the air.

Before he moves from behind his desk, he drops the folder back on the desk, and it's heavy enough that it makes a rather loud thump.

He doesn't say anything else until he sits down in the chair next to me.

"Captain, I understand that you're among four or five JAG officers who are considered to be experts on maritime law."

"Yes, Sir, I believe that's still an accurate statement."

"Did I read correctly that you were taken prisoner by the Chinese when you were asked to consult with NATO on a matter about a decade ago?"

"You read correctly, Mister Secretary. I was held by the Chinese for a time, Sir," I reply.

Leaning back in his chair, he moves on to another part of my record, or to be more precise, a lapse in my record by asking, "There's a block of time of about six months that's missing from your service record. For a variety of reasons and from sources that I won't disclose, I believe that you were working for the CIA, is that correct, Captain Rabb?"

"With all due respect, Mister Secretary, I'm not at liberty to say."

He gives me an unreadable look before he continues.

"You've been awarded two Distinguished Flying Crosses and a Silver Star. Along with those impressive awards, I also saw you make an impressive C-130 landing on the deck of a carrier on ZNN during the conspicuous six months that I mentioned a moment ago, so I'd have to say that you were an excellent pilot as well. Having been an aviator and now a lawyer makes you a hot commodity these days, Captain. You understand combat from the position of a pilot, but know the legalities of the rules of engagement. A very useful combination, I'd imagine." He doesn't seem to have a question, just making an observation, but then he asks, "Do you miss flying, Captain?"

"I have days when I think that a flight at Mach 1 would clear my head, Sir, but the urge to go up passes quickly these days, Mr. Secretary."

He nods as if to agree or say that he understands my answer before starting to speak again.

"You've had some pretty notable cases as well, having been chosen to prosecute the first military tribunal in more than fifty years and defending me at my trial in the International Criminal Court. So, it would seem that you're as good a lawyer as you were a pilot."

He stops speaking, and I'm not sure if he's waiting for me to speak or not, but after a few moments of silence, I get the sense that he's expecting me to say something, even though there was no question directed to me.

"I'd like to think so, Sir."

He must have been waiting for me to respond because, once the words have left my mouth, he nods again before starting to speak.

"What do you think of the legal abilities of another JAG officer with whom I understand you worked for a time, Admiral Krennick?"

"She's a good lawyer, Mister Secretary. If you want legal advice, she'd be an excellent choice, Sir."

"That's what I've heard."

He nods again. "Captain Rabb, do you have any ambition to become the Judge Advocate General?"

"Sir, I'd be honored to serve my country in whatever capacity I'm assigned," I say sincerely.

At one time, my answer would've been 'yes, sir,' but after being a Force Judge Advocate and experiencing the day-to-day politics and paperwork, I'm not certain that I'd want the job now.

"An interesting answer, Captain Rabb," he says, nodding his head.

Maybe it's some kind of tic from a medical condition that he has that makes him unexplainably nod like that every so often.

"Both Senator Proxmeyer and Congresswoman Latham speak very highly of you. Did you know that you have friends on Capitol Hill, Captain Rabb?"

"I'm aware that I've worked successfully with the Congresswoman and I know that the Senator was pleased with my defense of her nephew, Sir."

"Mmm..." This time, he doesn't nod. "You've always struck me as confident when I've seen you in legal situations, such as when you were speaking in my defense. However, I was expecting more arrogance in a personal meeting, so your humility surprises me, Captain."

This time, he doesn't wait for me to respond in any way. He just keeps talking.

"Do you think that someone like yourself, who's been out of the courtroom for awhile, is at a disadvantage when he returns to the courtroom against someone who hasn't had a break in practicing their craft, Captain Rabb?"

"I don't think that it would be wise to make such a generalization. I believe that it depends on the competence and confidence of the individual attorney, Sir."

"I see." He pauses for a heartbeat. "If you were assigned a case and had to go into court, do you think that you'd have trouble getting back into the swing of things, so to speak?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you think that someone like Colonel MacKenzie would have trouble returning to the courtroom after her absence while she's been in command of JLS?"

"No, Sir, Colonel MacKenzie is an excellent attorney. Since she retired last Friday, I'm sure that, if you recalled her to active duty, she'd return to the courtroom with ease, Sir."

"Colonel MacKenzie retired last week? I didn't know that. Do you have plans to retire, Captain?"

"I've been giving retirement some thought recently, but I have no plans to do so at this time, Sir."

"That's good to hear. If Colonel MacKenzie wasn't available to represent _you_ in a matter, who would be your second choice?"

"Lt. Commander Roberts, Sir."

"Interesting choice...didn't he have some trouble upon returning to full duty after his rehabilitation?"

"He lost a leg, Sir. After a trauma to the mind and body like that, Sir, a lot of men would've wanted to quit, but Commander Roberts fought to stay in, Sir."

"You admire him for that, don't you?"

"I have a great deal of respect for Commander Roberts for many reasons, Sir."

He continues his combination of citing information from my service record and asking me questions, including several more questions about other JAG officers with whom I've served over the years.

When I'm dismissed from his office, I've spent two hours in a strange session of Q & A with the Secretary of the Navy.

Once I've left his office, I spend an hour in a car with my driver who's fighting traffic to get me back to my hotel while I'm trying to figure out why the SecNav wanted to see me.

However, the way he jumped from my days as an aviator to some high profile cases that I've worked more recently and back to my days in the air, I can't make heads or tails out of what his reason might have been for wanting to meet with me today.

**BEAUMONT HOTEL **

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**PACIFIC TIME - 1430 / LOCAL TIME - 1730**

"Rabb residence." The voice of the older Sarah Rabb comes over the line after she picks up on the fourth ring.

"Hi, Grandma," I say, feeling a little more upbeat with my meeting out of the way and knowing that I'll be home tomorrow.

"Hello, Harm. Sarah told me that Jack Keeter now lives in your old loft, so I hope that you're staying out of trouble while you're there," she says with a laugh.

"I didn't even give Keeter a call, Grandma. The trip was too last-minute for me to think about calling anyone to make any arrangements for last night. So, with only tonight left in town and since her birthday is this week, I called Mattie, not Keeter. She doesn't have classes on Fridays, so she and her friend, Kevin, are driving into the city to have dinner with me."

"Tell Mattie that Gee Gee said happy birthday, and give that boy a good once over and let him know that he'd better treat her right or I'll kick his six into next year," she says in a serious tone.

"Mattie's known him for a long time. She says that they're just friends, so I don't think that any of us need to threaten him."

"Didn't you tell me repeatedly that you and Sarah were just friends? If I'm not mistaken, I believe that she's the same Sarah that you're married to and have children with now," she says sternly.

"Is that what I told you?" I ask teasingly.

"Harmon," she says in a warning tone that conveys that she isn't amused by my attempt at diversion.

"I did, Grandma ... point taken. I'll lean on him a little and let him know that he'll have a lot of people to answer to, including my grandma, if he gets out of line. How's that sound?"

"That's better. Now that we've reached an understanding, would you like to talk to your wife, or would that be your friend?" She says the latter with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"I would if she's available," I say, not taking the bait to get involved in a verbal sparring match with her.

"She's got her hands full of baby, but I can remedy that. Hold on while we switch the baby for the phone."

I wait for a moment and then I hear, "Hey. How was your meeting? Can you tell me what he wanted?"

"Part of the time that I was in there, I got the feeling that I was at a job interview, and part of the time I thought that he was trying to get an unofficial evaluation of some of the people with whom I've worked during my career. His questions were all over the place. So I have no idea what the purpose was for our meeting."

"Did he ask you about your aviator friends or just attorneys that you've worked with since you've been part of the JAG Corps?" Mac asks.

"Only the lawyers who I've worked with..." I answer slowly because I'm processing what that might mean at the same time.

"Maybe he's looking to fill the position that opened up when he ousted Commander Lindsey," Mac suggests.

"Maybe...but why would he have to look for a candidate when he could give the job to Commander Manetti, a person whom he obviously already trusts?"

"To avoid the appearance of impropriety, perhaps," Mac reasons.

"Well, frankly, I'm just glad that it's over so that I can come home.

"We miss you, too."

"I guess I should let you go. You have to be heading off to a doctor's appointment soon, don't you?"

"Yes, my appointment is at 1530."

"I should get off the phone anyway. I want to change into civilian clothes before I meet Mattie and Kevin for dinner."

"Is she dating Kevin or is she still saying that they're just friends?" Mac asks with a chuckle.

"She says that they're just friends," I answer.

"Give Mattie a hug for me."

"Will do. I'll call later to say good night to the kids."

"Okay. Bye, Harm," she says sweetly before we end our call.

"Bye."

**BEAUMONT HOTEL **

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**PACIFIC TIME - 2205, Friday / LOCAL TIME - 0105, Saturday **

I'm tired of staring at the ceiling, trying to get to sleep.

I roll onto my side.

Now I'm staring at the wall. It isn't better, but at least it's a different pattern than the ceiling.

I close my eyes in an attempt to sleep.

I don't know how long it's been, but I can't keep lying here. I need either to go to sleep or get up.

I open my eyes.

I look at the clock, 0112.

I managed to keep my eyes closed for a whole seven minutes before giving up this time. I think that tops the previous record for tonight.

I stop staring at the clock and, when my gaze lowers, I catch sight of my cellphone.

After a quick time zone check, I decide to call Mac's cellphone. If she's awake, she'll answer, but I won't be risking waking anyone else.

With my cellphone firmly in hand, I dial the number, impatiently wait for the call to connect and then listen to it ring ... once ... twice ...

"Hello, Handsome, shouldn't you be sleeping?" Mac answers.

"How did you know that it was me?" I ask.

"I know that it's you the moment the phone rings because I have your calls set to a different ring than anyone else's. Now quit stalling and tell me why you aren't asleep?"

"I don't know if it's because it's the first time that I've been away since you had the baby or if it's because Tyler hasn't been feeling well, but I didn't get much sleep last night and I haven't been able even to get to sleep tonight. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I did lie down for a while after I got our children into bed, but I couldn't sleep either. So I'm in the den, reviewing the Ballinger case again."

"Are you saying that our bed isn't comfortable without me in it?"

"I didn't say that...though your chest does make the perfect pillow. Is that what your problem is with sleeping? Is the bed uncomfortable?"

"No. I think the reason why I can't sleep is that I'm ready to come home. Do you have any idea why you can't sleep? Is it the case?"

"I'm sure that's part of it. I spoke with Lafferty this afternoon. He checked out a few things that I suggested the last time that we spoke and a few ideas that he'd come up with on his own, but nothing panned out. I'm also worried about Tyler. I couldn't tell you on the phone when you called to say good night because all the kids were around and I didn't want to say anything in front of them, but he didn't eat much breakfast or lunch, so I called and made another doctor's appointment for him."

"When?" I ask, hoping that I can make it since I told him that I'd take him the next time if he didn't start to feel better.

"The first appointment that they had available, Tuesday at 1300. I wasn't happy that they couldn't get him in sooner, but it didn't do me any good. They said that, if I thought that it couldn't wait, I should take him to the emergency room. Since he isn't running a fever, I guess Tuesday will work. I'm really hoping that they can find out what's wrong with him this time."

"Since his appointment isn't until Tuesday, I should be able to work something out when I get back so that I can take him or at least meet you at the clinic. Speaking of doctors...since I called after dinner with Mattie so that she could talk to her brother and sisters, I didn't ask how your appointment went today. Is that something that's keeping you up? Is there anything wrong?"

"I've been given a clean bill of health and the all-clear to return to _all_ normal activities." She says the latter in a suggestive tone, but then she chuckles. "Do you have a favorite brand of condoms?" she asks, followed by a giggle.

"What?" I ask, confused by the question.

"When Dr. Wallace was wrapping up my appointment, she told me that she didn't recommend that any woman get pregnant again until the child that she's had is a year old. She also said that, since I'm breast-feeding, the pill isn't an option for me as a method of birth control. So, she recommended that we use condoms," she says, letting me in on why she was chuckling before, and then she tells me the rest of the story. "After I stopped laughing...I reminded her that it took medical intervention for me to get pregnant, so did she really think that any form of birth control was necessary?"

"What did she say to that?" I ask with a chuckle.

"She told me that, sometimes, even though a woman needed a medical procedure to conceive originally, she gets pregnant the old-fashioned way if contraception isn't used in the months after a birth. She said that they think that it may have something to do with the change in hormone levels. She said that it doesn't happen very often, but often enough that she likes for her patients, no matter what it took for a couple to achieve their previous pregnancy, to use some form of birth control and, for a mother who's breast-feeding, the best option is condoms."

Realizing that I've never asked her before, I ask, "Do you want to have another child?"

"It wasn't that long ago that having one child seemed an impossible dream, so the thought that I could have two wasn't something that I even remotely considered. I don't know if I want to have another child. We do have four young children now, and we have both boys and girls, so our family seems pretty complete. Don't you think so?"

"I do, but I wanted to know how you felt. Now that I do...I'd better add making a stop at the drugstore to my list of things to do when I get home tomorrow."

"Anxious to get me alone, Sailor?" she asks in that purr of hers.

Even though I can't see her, that seductive purr goes into my ears and straight to my groin. I need to change the subject or I won't get to sleep at all tonight.

"Why don't you tell me about your case?" I ask, and I know that she knows that I'm changing the subject, because she's right: I am anxious to get her alone.

Of course, at the moment, I'd settle for just being in the same bed with her - sleeping.

"Are you sure? Hearing about a murder case doesn't sound like much of a bedtime story to me."

"I just want to listen to your voice and, who knows, I might be able to give you an idea, or something might come to you while you're telling me the story out loud."

"Well, okay. I'll refresh your memory on the basics first. The victim was stabbed six times. The accused was seen by the boyfriend of the third roommate with the knife in her hand."

"Yeah, I remember. The accused says that she was coming in from her run, found the victim on the floor and picked up the knife, right?"

"Yes, that's right." She sounds surprised that I remember the case from our conversation a few days ago.

"The victim had defensive wounds on her arms and bruises on her knuckles that the coroner's report says are consistent with someone who'd been in a fist fight."

"So the victim was fighting off her attacker," I summarize from what she's said.

"Exactly, and our client had no noticeable bruising at the time that she was arrested. That combined with the fact that Lafferty talked with an expert, and he told him that, in his expert opinion, there wasn't enough blood on our client's clothing to have stabbed someone six times, giving credence to her story that the blood on her clothing came from her claim that, after checking to see if her roommate had a pulse, she leaned over the body to see if she could feel any breath coming out of her mouth, getting the victim's blood on the front of her sweatshirt in the process."

"Any chance that the boyfriend/witness is really the killer? He killed her and then returned, making it seem as if he hadn't been there prior to that time?"

"Lafferty and I both thought of that one. The boyfriend is six foot two, and the victim was five foot six, so the coroner says that the angle of the stab wounds would be inconsistent for someone that tall to have stabbed her. The killer would have to be between five-five and five-seven, the same approximate height of the victim to achieve the correct angle of the knife wounds."

"You said before that the boyfriend was coming over to see his girlfriend, the third roommate. Did he have a key?" I ask.

"I don't know. Why?"

"I was just wondering because, if he did, he could have let someone else in to do the deed. Where was the third roommate, his girlfriend, during the murder?"

"She was in the shower with the radio playing...says that she didn't hear a thing, that her boyfriend came into the bathroom to make sure that she was okay when he saw the accused leaning over the victim, and that's when she first learned that something had happened to one of her roommates ... and yes, at five-six, the same as the accused, she fits the height requirement of the murderer. Lafferty is looking into a possible motive for her, but so far, no luck," Mac answers.

"You said that your client says that she was coming in from a run. Most runners, even joggers, for that matter, have some kind of schedule. They run the same days of the week or the same time of day, so that means that, if someone wanted to frame your client, anyone who knew her routine could be a suspect."

"I'll have Lafferty ask her about who knew her routine, but I have my doubts about the third roommate. I just can't believe that she heard nothing. I cruised by the house on my way back from the doctor's office today. It's a modest-sized house, so it isn't like the commotion of two people in a scuffle had to travel very far. If she'd said that she heard something, but didn't think anything of it, that she thought that it was just one of her roommates working in the kitchen or even the TV, I don't think that it would have raised my suspicions, but her statement was that she heard absolutely nothing. I just find that hard to believe."

"It sounds like you'd like to have a shot at interrogating her yourself," I state.

"I don't know where you'd get an idea like that..." she says coyly before giving in and confessing "...but I would like to ask her a few questions."

"Are you sure that you're going to be happy in retirement?" I ask.

"I'm not saying that it isn't going to take some time to get used to, but I'll adjust. If I have to, I'll take up a hobby," she says with a chuckle.

"What would you say if I told you that, on the flight here, I was thinking that it might be time for me to retire?"

"I'd say that I know that you don't like to be away from your family, but it's a major decision that shouldn't be decided on a plane taking you out of town for business, but that, if you feel that way after you get back and have been home for a week or two, we should talk about it." Her tone is serious.

"I love it when you come up with a dispassionate plan."

She chuckles before expressing her concern for my well-being.

"I love hearing your voice, but you really should try to get some sleep."

"I'll try to get some sleep if you promise not to stay up too much longer, either," I state.

"I promise. Good night, Harm."

"Good night, Mac."


	60. Chapter 60

**PART FOUR**

**SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2007**

**RABB HOME**

**SAN DIEGO, CA**

**1237**

**HARM'S POV**

Traffic wasn't heavy, and my driver made good time from the airport to my home.

I open the door and drop my bag. I'll take it to the bedroom later.

I make my way to the living room to find Tyler and my grandmother sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

"What are you watching?" I ask with a smile because I'm so happy to be home.

Tyler looks up and answers despondently, "Hi, Dad. Glad you're home."

"Hello, Harm. It's a documentary on polar bears," my grandmother answers.

"How are you feeling, Buddy?" I ask as I walk towards him, concerned about his reaction, or rather lack thereof to my being home as I sit down on the couch next to him.

"I'm tired, but my stomach doesn't hurt as much right now. So, I guess I'm feeling better."

"It's good that your stomach doesn't hurt as much," I say, patting him on the arm. "I'm going to go say hello to everyone else, and then I'll come back to talk to you some more, okay?"

"Okay, Dad," he says, sounding absolutely exhausted and not even attempting to move.

"Sarah and Abigail are in the kitchen, and Sami and Matthew are still napping," my grandmother informs me.

I nod and leave the two of them to watch TV.

I enter the kitchen to see Mac putting a cookie sheet in the oven.

"Are there any cookies ready for tasting yet?" I ask as Mac closes the oven door, Abigail at her side.

The two turn around to look my way.

"I wasn't expecting you home for at least another half hour," Mac says while making her way to me.

Mac gives me a peck on the lips and, as we briefly embrace, Abigail speaks.

"We're baking cookies for you. Mac said that chocolate chip were your favorite, Harm," she says, moving closer to me.

I squat down to her level to reply.

"They sure are my favorites."

I almost fall over from shock when she puts her arms around my neck.

"I'm glad you're home safe," she says as she hugs my neck.

I'm so shocked that I can barely breathe, which makes talking out of the question, so I respond to her by slipping my arms loosely around her and patting her gently on the back.

After a few moments, Abigail releases me and steps back.

Looking up at Mac, she asks, "Can he try a cookie from the batch that's done baking, Momma?"

I also look up at Mac to see if she saw what just happened.

The look on her face tells me that, not only did she see it, but that it meant almost as much to her as it did to me.

"I think it would be all right if he had one," Mac answers.

"I'll get you one, okay?" Abigail asks enthusiastically.

"Okay," I say as I stand, watching her happily move to retrieve a cookie from the cooling rack at one end of the counter.

A few moments later, Abigail and I are sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating a cookie and drinking a small glass of milk while Mac goes to check on Tyler.

Abigail and I are finished with our cookies, and she's telling me that she's been asked to play two songs at her piano recital as Mac returns from the living room.

"Abigail, will you go check to see if Sami's awake? If she is, tell her that Daddy's home, please."

"Yes, Momma," she says, getting down from her chair at the table.

Once Abigail has left the room, Mac looks at me, and her expression conveys worry.

"Mac, what is it?"

"Ty ate only a couple of bites of his breakfast and he didn't eat any lunch. I just offered him a cookie, and he turned it down, too. I'm really worried about him."

"Do you think that I should take him to the emergency room?"

"I don't know. He says that his stomach doesn't hurt as much...and he isn't running a fever...and he did see a doctor just a few days ago who didn't find anything wrong with him. He has another appointment on Tuesday. Maybe we should just keep an eye on him for the rest of the day. Now that you're home, maybe he'll perk up and get his appetite back."

"Okay, we'll go about our normal Saturday activities, but one of us should stay at the house with Tyler to keep an eye on him."

"Okay," Mac replies just before Sami comes bursting into the room.

"Daddy's home!" she says, charging towards me.

**KITCHEN **

**1800 **

Abigail and Sami have brought in their dishes and have joined Tyler to watch a movie before bath time.

When my grandmother leaves the kitchen, it leaves Mac and me alone, so I revisit the topic of taking Tyler to the emergency room because he didn't eat any dinner. The only thing that I could coax him to do was to drink a little of his milk.

"Mac, I don't think that we should wait until Tuesday to take Ty to the doctor." The words rush out of my mouth because it's a tough thing for me to say that I think that he's really that sick.

"I agree," she says, her voice cracking from being near tears.

"I promised to take him if he had to go back, so, if you think that you can handle the clean up from dinner, and bath and bedtime for the other children without me again tonight, I'll take him to the ER now."

"Your grandmother could take care of the other children...and we could leave this mess until we get back. That way, we could both take him," she says, still fighting back tears.

"I think that, if we both take him, he'll be worried that we think that it's something really bad. If just one of us takes him, maybe he won't be scared that it's something serious."

"You'll call me the minute you know something, anything?"

"Of course, I'll keep you informed," I say with a bit of a scowl at the thought that she'd think for even a second that I'd keep her out of the loop about our son's health.

**ER**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**2035**

I step out of the ER and into the ambulance bay to call Mac.

She must have had the phone in her hand, because she answers on the first ring.

"Harm, how is he?"

"We're waiting on some test results to confirm it, but the doctor has a theory -"

She cuts me off before I can elaborate voluntarily.

"What does he think it is? Is it serious?" Her words come out quickly, and I can tell that she's scared.

"The doc thinks that he has appendicitis. He says that Tyler is a little young for it because they usually don't see many cases before the age of ten, but the symptoms fit."

"But appendicitis is an infection, right? He hasn't been running a fever, so how could that be it?"

"I know that he hasn't been running one all day, but when they took his vitals at check in, he had one."

"How's he doing? Let me talk to him."

"I left a nurse with him for a moment to come outside to call you. In case it isn't his appendix, I didn't want to worry him unnecessarily when I told you that, if it is his appendix, they'll be taking him to surgery after they've run some pre-op testing and, if you want to be sure that you see him before he goes into the OR, you should probably come to the hospital now."

"I'll tell your grandmother what's going on. She'll watch things here so that I can leave right away. If you find out that he needs surgery before I get there, you tell him that Momma is on her way. Now, you get back in there with him," she says before the line goes dead.

**2040**

After speaking with Mac, I needed a couple of moments in the fresh air to calm the fears that have started to brew inside me at the thought that my son will have to have surgery.

Now believing that I'm in control of my emotions enough to be able to handle seeing my son in a hospital bed without causing him to be alarmed, I enter the ER and make my way to Tyler's curtained-off cubicle.

Wondering if I called Mac because Tyler or I need her more, I take one more deep breath and let it out slowly before pulling back the curtain.

"I'm back, Buddy."

"Where did you go?" he asks, sounding upset.

"I went to call your mom," I answer, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

"Oh yeah," he says, sounding calmer.

I guess he remembered that I told him and the nurse that it was where I was going when I left a few minutes ago.

"I'll be right back," the nurse says before vanishing from the room.

"I don't feel good," he says sadly.

"I know, Buddy, but the doctor thinks that he might know what's wrong," I say, taking his little hand in my much larger one.

"I heard the nurse tell someone that I might have to stay in the hospital."

"You might if it's what the doctor thinks it is, but we won't know for sure until the doctor comes back."

"If I have to say in the hospital, will you stay with me?" he asks, sounding scared.

"You'll be stuck with me until you feel better, Buddy," I say with a smile.

"Can I sit with you?" Tyler asks in a voice that could be mistaken for a much younger child.

"Sure," I reply and, seconds later, he's found the energy to get off the bed and sit in my lap, something that he rarely does.

**2100**

Tyler is acting like a much younger child and is practically curled up in my lap with his head resting against my shoulder.

I haven't wanted to move a muscle because I think that he might be asleep.

Since we're in an ER, people are scurrying back and forth on the other side of his curtained-off 'room,' and hearing voices in various volume levels is just the nature of the environment. However, when a nurse seems to be speaking right outside our curtain, I find myself listening to her.

"Sometimes the lab gets a little backed up, but his test results should be back any time now, and the doctor will be in to speak with you as soon as he gets them. Your husband and son are in here, Mrs. Rabb."

Fingers slip around the edge of the curtain a moment before it's moved aside.

I don't know if it was the nurse's voice or the fact that he heard her say Mrs. Rabb, but, in any case, Tyler sits up in my lap as the curtain opens wide enough for the nurse and Mac to be seen.

"Momma," he says, sounding happy to see her, though his fatigue can be heard as well.

"How are you feeling?" Mac asks with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes as she steps into our space.

"The same," Ty answers, and I swear that his voice sounds weaker.

"I'm sorry that you don't feel well," Mac says, bending over to take his hand.

"Mac, why don't you take the chair?" I suggest, realizing that there's only one chair in the room.

"Why don't we all sit on the bed together?" she suggests, knowing that we both need to be with Tyler right now, for him and for each of us.

That's the way the doctor finds the three of us ten minutes later, sitting on the side of the bed, Tyler between us, each of us holding one of his hands.

**2300**

I'm holding his hand as I walk next to the gurney. Mac is right behind me, keeping pace with us by holding onto a section of the railing as we journey towards the OR.

The nurse who's been pushing the gurney stops it just feet from the double doors labeled OR. I know that this means that we've come as far with him as we can, even before the nurse speaks, but I refuse to let go of his hand or leave his side before I'm told that it's time.

"Captain and Mrs. Rabb, only staff and patients are allowed past these doors..." she says, her voice trailing off.

I'm glad that she didn't finish. The rest - "It's time to say your goodbyes" - would only scare Tyler more than he already is, knowing that he's going to have surgery.

I look down into my son's eyes. "They don't want us to get in the way in the operating room, so your mom and I have to let you go in there by yourself, but we'll be there when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay," he says in a voice shaky with fear.

"Everything is going to be fine," I say, trying to sound reassuring while giving his hand a squeeze. "I love you," I say, squeezing his hand one more time before letting go so that Mac can have a chance to talk to him.

When I step back, Mac takes his hand. "You're going to be fine. Don't worry," she says to him before placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you in a little while. I love you."

"The doors on your left there..." The nurse points. "...take you to the surgical waiting room. The doctor will come in to see you when he's finished with the procedure."

'What is it about Mac that makes almost the same words that I said sound so much more reassuring than when I said them?' I wonder as I watch Tyler's hand being pulled from hers as the nurse pushes the gurney through the now open double doors.

As the doors close, Mac leans against me, and I know that she's more worried than she's been letting on since we found out that he needed to have his appendix removed.

My arm goes around her, and I speak softly. "You heard the doctor. It's a pretty routine procedure. Tyler's going to be fine."

"I know what he said, but that's our son. It isn't routine to me," she says, fighting back tears.

"I know what you mean," I say barely above a whisper.

We stand there, my arm around Mac, motionless, looking at the closed doors labeled OR for a few moments before we can move and make our way to the waiting room.

**SURGICAL WAITING ROOM**

**2332**

It feels like an eternity since they wheeled him through the double doors.

I've sat in a chair.

I've paced.

I've sat back down.

I've paced.

"How much longer?" I ask as I drop into the chair next to Mac.

"What?" she asks distractedly.

I've interrupted her thoughts.

"The doctor said that the operation would take about an hour if there were no complications. How much longer before the hour is up?" I ask impatiently.

"It's been thirty-two minutes, so we've got twenty-eight more to go."

I lean back in the chair and close my eyes, but I can't just sit here. However, there's nothing else that I can do right now, so I get up and start to pace again.

**2340**

I look at my watch. We still have twenty minutes to wait.

"If there are no complications..." The doctor's words echo in my head as I near the wall, forcing me to turn on my heel to walk back in the other direction, Mac's direction.

When I manage to shake the thought of complications out of my mind, my eyes fall on Mac.

She's sitting with her hands clasped together and resting on her purse in her lap. Her head is down as if she's studying her hands. Her shoulders are slumped forward. It's a defeatist's posture.

After a quick check of my short-term memory, I realize that she's been sitting that way every time I've looked in her direction. She didn't even look up when I asked her about how much longer Tyler should be in the operating room. The image of her looking alone and defeated spurs me into action.

I make quick work of the distance between us.

I sit down next to her, wondering how I could become so absorbed in my guilt and fear that I'd allow her to worry about our son alone.

I slip my arm around her shoulders, and her body becomes rigid.

"He's going to be okay, Mac." The words sound eerily familiar to me.

"I know that he should be, but I keep thinking that, if I hadn't been so selfish, I ... we wouldn't be here." She turns her head slightly towards me, but her eyes don't meet mine. "What if the cost of me having Matthew is that we lose Tyler?"

"Mac, this isn't your fault. Our son got sick. He has to have an operation to make him better. These things just happen in life sometimes. There's no one to blame."

Her body becomes a little less rigid.

"Thank you for saying that," she says as she leans her head against my shoulder.

"I meant it. You're a good mother, Mac. Don't ever doubt that. I don't."

She moves one of her hands over and rests it on my thigh. "I'm glad that you're here."

"Me, too. You can put that down in the pro column for when we talk about me retiring. I'd be around when our children are sick."

"I'll make a note of that, but we shouldn't have a discussion about you retiring until after Tyler is better and we have him back at home with us, okay?"

Mac and I have been the only ones in the waiting room since we came in, so, once I reply with "okay," the waiting room becomes silent again as we wait for the doctor together.

AN: Though this is not the typical scenario for appendicitis, it is one based on my personal experience with my son, when he was a little older than Tyler is in this story.


	61. Chapter 61

**PART FIVE **

**SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2007**

**SURGICAL WAITING ROOM**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER **

**0019**

**HARM'S POV**

We've shifted in our seats several times since the magic sixty-minute time limit passed, but we've maintained a connection through our entwined hands.

I know that she doesn't want to say it. I certainly don't want to say it out loud, but I also know that both of us are thinking that the extra time means that there's been a complication.

After another few minutes, Mac can't bring herself to say it directly, so she lets me know by informing me of the amount of time that's elapsed.

"Harm, it's been one hour and nineteen minutes."

"I know...I know." That's all I can say. I can't think of any words that would comfort her at this moment.

My experience with Mattie after her plane crash was different than this in that I was able to sit with her and talk to her as I waited for news of whether her condition was going to improve, but with Tyler, he's in an operating room too far away for me to hold his hand or for him to hear my voice.

With each passing moment, I'm feeling more uneasy about the fate of my son, and it's giving me an upset stomach.

I want to throw up, but I don't want to leave Mac.

I also don't want to leave this room in case the doctor comes with news.

**0027**

A woman in scrubs comes into the waiting room. "Captain and Mrs. Rabb?" she says like a question.

"Yes," Mac and I answer in unison.

"Since the surgery was running longer than expected, the doctor wanted me to inform you that he's almost finished with closing the incision and that he'll be in shortly to speak with you."

"Thank you," I say, feeling some relief.

"Is our son okay?" Mac asks.

"The doctor will fill you in when he gets here."

Suddenly, I'm not feeling as relieved any more. Why can't she just say that he's fine? Is it because he isn't fine?

"It won't be much longer. I promise, and the doctor will tell you how the surgery went and answer all your questions."

**0030**

"Captain and Mrs. Rabb," the man in scrubs says as he comes into the room and pulls down his mask, revealing that he's Ty's surgeon, who we met briefly before they wheeled Ty to the OR.

Mac and I stand to meet the doctor, our hands still entwined.

I skip any greeting and get right to the point by asking, "How is he, Doctor?"

"He's stable."

"Why is it that I hear a 'but' coming?" I ask, staring into the doctor's face.

"Your son has a condition that's called peritonitis. In this case, it was caused by some of the infection in his appendix seeping into the peritoneal cavity. The surgery took longer than expected because I was cleaning up the area, but it's unlikely that I got all of it, and even if I did, there's no way of knowing how long his appendix had been leaking, so it's possible that the infection is already in his system."

"You aren't saying that he's going to die, are you?" Mac asks in a shaky voice as her hand squeezes mine tightly.

"No, but I am saying that the pre-surgery scenario that I gave you needs to be amended. At this point, my biggest concern is that the infection has entered his bloodstream, which can cause a condition known as sepsis. We'll be starting him on IV antibiotics to combat the infection and fluids to keep him hydrated, and he'll be closely monitored."

"I should have brought him to the hospital when I first got home. I knew that there was something seriously wrong when he didn't move off the couch to give me a hug after I'd been away for a few days," I say, finally venting my reason for feeling guilty about my son's condition.

"Harm, this isn't your fault," Mac says softly.

"My wife took him to the doctor just this past Tuesday. Why wasn't that doctor able to tell that he had appendicitis?" I ask, my guilt turning to anger.

"Captain Rabb, I don't think that either of you should blame yourselves. The two of you did everything right. Your son didn't feel well, and you took him to the doctor. I know that hearing that your son is a very sick little boy isn't easy for you, but appendicitis can be tricky to diagnose in anyone. With your son being younger than the typical age of ten to fifteen when appendicitis becomes a more common occurance and, if I read the ER notes correctly that, until today, his only symptom was a stomachache, I don't believe that any doctor would have diagnosed that he had appendicitis from that one symptom," the doctor explains.

The statement that Tyler's surgeon has just made has exonerated every one of blame, but, somehow, I don't feel any better because my son is still very sick.

"When will we know for sure that he's going to be okay?" I ask.

"I wish I could tell you, but each patient responds differently to treatment. I do want to stress that peritonitis and sepsis are serious conditions, but _are_ treatable. I'll be honest, if sepsis sets in, he'll get worse before he gets better. However, I believe that the combination of the high dose of antibiotics that we're going to be giving him will be a successful treatment, but it isn't going to happen overnight."

Anticipating our next question, the doctor adds, "He'll probably be in the hospital for a couple of weeks, depending on how he responds. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"When can we see him?" Mac asks.

"A nurse will come to get you once they get him settled in the recovery room. It shouldn't be very much longer. I'll be checking on him in a little while. So, if you think of any questions, you can ask me when I see you then."

"Thank you, Doctor," Mac replies.

The doctor walks out of the waiting room, leaving Mac and me alone once again.

As an automatic reaction, Mac and I embrace, seeking strength and support from each other to get us through the first real challenge that we've faced since we've been married - seeing our son through this health crisis.

**0037**

"Excuse me," the nurse from earlier says, causing Mac and me to release each other. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the recovery room to see your son."

I reach for Mac's hand and, when the nurse turns around to head out of the room, we follow.

**RECOVERY ROOM**

**0050**

Mac and I have been sitting in chairs by his bed, holding hands and silently watching him as we wait for him to wake up.

I take my eyes off of him for only a moment to look at Mac.

I'm about to suggest that she go home because I know from the wet spots on her blouse that her breasts are full and that she has to be uncomfortable, but a frail voice draws my attention back to Tyler.

"Dad...Momma."

"Hey, Buddy, I thought that you were going to sleep all day," I tease.

I'm rewarded with a sleepy smile. The anesthesia is wearing off, but not enough for him to be clear-headed yet, and his eyes fall closed again.

"Between the anesthesia and pain medication, he's going to be out of it for most of today, so the two of you may want to go get some rest," a nurse says as she checks his IV.

"We're fine, thanks," Mac answers for us as I study the face of our sleeping son. "We told him that we'd be here when he woke up," Mac adds.

"I understand," the nurse says.

The sound of the rhythmic beeps of Tyler's monitor is somehow soothing. Perhaps it's because it means that he's alive.

Mac and I glance at each other as we continue to sit and wait for him to open his eyes again.

**PEDIATRIC WARD**

**0210**

Tyler woke up enough that we could be sure that he knew that we were there and, shortly thereafter, he was moved to the pediatric ward.

There are four beds in this glass enclosed room, but Tyler is currently its sole occupant.

There are chairs that fully recline in the room so that parents can spend the night.

As I once again try to get comfortable, I'm convinced that these chairs just aren't meant for a guy my size and I give up for the time being.

I look up to see Mac reclining in the chair on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes are closed and she appears to be sleeping.

I watch her for a moment and then, as I start to look away, I notice the spots on her blouse again.

I get out of my chair, and Mac's eyes pop open.

I don't know if my movement woke her or if she wasn't really asleep.

"Harm, since you said that you didn't sleep well while you were gone, you should go home and get some rest in our bed. I'll stay with him," she offers.

"I'll manage here, but you should go home," I say as I kneel down beside her chair. I see the flare in her eyes, which means that she's about to launch a rant about why I have to be so stubborn, but I know how to disarm her. "When was the last time you nursed Matthew?" I ask, looking at her chest.

"It's been -" She stops speaking after looking down at her chest and seeing the wet spots. "I can't believe that I didn't know that they were leaking."

"Well, you've been pretty distracted by other things," I say, tilting my head towards the hospital bed with Tyler asleep in it. "You've got to be at least uncomfortable if they're that full. Go home and nurse Matthew, or at least pump so that you're more comfortable and then get some rest. You can fill in my grandmother on what's going on and you can give my parents a call ... unless you want me to do it."

"You didn't call them last night?"

"No, it was late, and my grandmother knew what was going on, so I thought that I'd just wait until I knew that they'd be up this morning to give them a call."

"Do you want me to bring you anything when I come back?"

"No, but if you'd wait just a couple of minutes before you leave, I'll hit the head and grab a cup of coffee so that I don't have to leave the room while you're gone."

"Sure, take your time, stretch your legs, get coffee, do whatever you need to do. I'll wait for you to get back before I go anywhere. I don't want him to be left alone either."

I place my lips on hers and give her a quick kiss.

"I love you..." she says softly, and I have a feeling that it's a prelude to hearing something that I don't want to hear. "...and I love him, too. So, though I agree that I should go home first for other reasons than I need some sleep, which we both need, I'm _not_ going to let you do this by yourself. He's our son - our responsibility, and you have three other children at home who need their dad, too. So, when I get back, we're going to work out a schedule so that one of us is here with him and the other one is at home, taking care of our other children," she says sternly.

Her tone tells me that she isn't going to hear arguments on the matter, so I decide not to put up a fight for now.

"I'll be back in a minute," I say before standing up to go do the things that I need to do before she leaves.

**0600**

After Mac left, I watched Tyler sleep for a while and then I closed my eyes to try to get some sleep, but I haven't been able to achieve that.

My eyes are burning from the need to rest, so I shift in my chair and close my eyes again, attempting to get at least a few minutes of sleep.

"Dad..."

It's a faint, scratchy voice, but the sound of it has my eyes popping open to see what Ty needs.

"Yeah, I'm right here," I say as I bring my body to an upright position and take his hand.

"Dad, am I going to die?" he whispers.

"No. Why would you think that?" I ask, floored by the question and holding his hand tightly.

"Because I feel worse, not better." His voice sounds tired and weak.

"That's because you were sicker than the doctors thought at first, but they're giving you an antibiotic through your IV to help you get better. It's just going to take time for it to work."

"I'm sleepy," he says.

"You're going to sleep a lot until you're better. So don't fight it. Just rest."

He doesn't respond with words. He just closes his eyes.

Once I'm sure that he's asleep, I recline in the chair and close my eyes, once again attempting to find sleep for myself.

**1100**

I feel someone pushing on my shoulder and then I hear Mac's voice.

"Harm ... Harm, wake up."

I quickly open my eyes, and Mac's face comes slowly into focus.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"An hour and twelve minutes."

"What time is it now?"

"1100...I didn't wake you when I got here because I knew that you didn't get any sleep at all last night and I doubted that you got much after I left. I wouldn't wake you now, but I thought that you'd feel better if you went home and cleaned up. You know, showered, shaved and put on some clean clothes. Then you could have lunch with the girls, take a nap, feed Matthew and come back tonight." She pauses for a moment before adding, "And you need to try to contact your parents. I tried the house and their cellphones, but I didn't get an answer at any of them. They must be out for the day. I left a message for them to call one of us as soon as they got in, but they haven't returned my call."

I motion for Mac to step outside the room.

I stand, and a sharp pain shoots through my lower back. That chair really wasn't a good place for me to sleep.

I see Mac's briefcase sitting on the floor near my chair as I look for something in the room to focus on while waiting for the pain to subside.

The sharp pain subsides quickly, and I find that the dull ache that's left in its place is manageable, so I'm able to move out of the room to join Mac after only a few seconds.

It's time for me to present my case for staying here with Tyler.

**OUTSIDE TYLER'S ROOM**

"Mac, I told him that I'd be here when he woke up. I can't leave."

"Harm, he's pretty out of it. Although I agree that he shouldn't be left here alone, I think, as his mother, I'm certainly qualified to stay with him, watch him sleep and be here if he needs anything. I'm also quite capable of calling you and letting you know that he's awake and wants to see you. I also need to point out to you that you have other obligations. There's a little girl at home who's already asking when her daddy is coming home to see her. If none of that matters to you, you need to get out of here if for no other reason than to arrange for emergency leave so that you're able to stay at the hospital when Monday rolls around."

"Mac, you know that my other children matter to me. It's just that..." My voice trials off.

"It's just what, Harm?" she asks, sounding annoyed with me.

I didn't want to tell her about Tyler's earlier question, but it's the only way that I can see to help her understand why I don't want to leave his side.

"It's just that Tyler's really scared. When he woke up a few hours ago, he asked me if he was going to die, Mac."

I know that she can see the fear in my eyes that, if he died and I wasn't here, I couldn't live with that.

"What would make him ask that?" Mac asks, trying to hold back her tears.

"I asked him that very question. He said that it was because he didn't feel better, that he felt worse than before his operation," I answer, the memory of the conversation firming my resolve to stay with him.

"You told him that he wasn't going to, didn't you?" Mac asks in a stern voice.

"Of course I told him that he wasn't going to die. I told him that he was very sick, sicker than we first thought, but that the doctor was giving him an antibotic to help him get better and it was going to take a while for it to work."

"Harm, you said it yourself. He's going to be sick and in the hospital for a while, but he's going to be fine. If you leave for a few hours to take care of business and give our other children some attention, he'll be fine. I won't leave his side. I promise."

"If he wakes up -"

"If he wakes up while you're gone, I'll be right here, and if I can't make him feel better, I'll call you and summon you back here, even if you've just left," Mac says, cutting me off.

"You promise to call if he wants or needs me...or if his condition changes?"

"I promise. Now please, before you fall on your face from exhaustion, go home, have some lunch and at least lie down so that pain in your back will ease."

"You don't miss a thing, do you?"

"Not when it comes to my family...although, in the case that I've been reviewing, I'm missing something."

"I guess that's why you brought your briefcase with you."

"I guess you don't miss much yourself, and yes, I brought the case to look over while I'm sitting here. It'll help me keep busy so I don't worry so much."

"Let me get my jacket off the chair, and I'll go."

I reenter the room, and Mac follows.

I grab my jacket before taking a moment to look at Tyler, who's still sleeping.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours, Buddy, but don't worry because I'm leaving your momma in charge while I'm gone. She'll take good care of you. I love you," I whisper before bending down and kissing him on the forehead.

I feel her hand on my arm.

"Don't worry. I'll be right here with him the whole time that you're gone," she says reassuringly.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No, but you look exhausted. Please drive extra carefully. I love you."

"I love you," I respond before she gives my lips a peck.

"We'll see you soon," she says softly as I near the door, causing me to turn and look back into the room.

What I see is her looking down at our son, raking her fingers through his hair and holding his hand.

I don't say anything, but that image of her with him allows me to leave the hospital more easily.

**PEDIATRIC WARD**

**1500**

I'm actually glad that I went home because I was able to dispel some of Abigail, Sami and my grandmother's concerns about Tyler's condition. I also called my mom and Frank to fill them in on what's been happening, but I couldn't reach them. They must have had some plans for today that I didn't know about.

I'm now feeling better as I return to Tyler's room.

I think that my improved condition has more to do with the time that I spent with my other children, but I'm sure that taking a shower, eating lunch and taking a short nap helped, too.

I stand in the doorway, looking at my wife.

She's moved the chair so that it's closer to Tyler's bed. She's slipped off her shoes and is reclining in the chair, holding Tyler's hand in one of hers and a file folder in the other, focused on reading its contents.

My gaze has set off her senses, and she lowers the file from in front of her face.

"Harm, you couldn't have slept very long if you're back already."

"I got about an hour nap," I say, stepping into the room.

"Well, some is better than none, I guess," she says.

I lift my hand that's holding a small plastic food bag and a thermos. "My grandmother sent these for you, a thermos of herbal tea and a few cookies."

"She's so thoughtful. Do you want to share?" Mac asks, sitting upright in the chair and placing the closed folder on Tyler's bed table.

"No, I ate lunch with the girls. I'm fine," I say, setting the bag on Ty's bed table.

"Any change?" I ask, looking at Tyler with two IV lines, one in each arm, lying perfectly still on the bed.

"No change. He did wake up for a few minutes."

"He wasn't upset that I wasn't here, was he?" I ask, panicked that he'd missed me and upset that I'd missed the opportunity to see him awake.

"An hour ago, he said 'Momma,' letting me know that he was awake, and then I talked to him about the weather outside, Cocoa coming, and I don't remember what else. His eyes started to droop, but before he fell back to sleep, he ask me to tell you that he still wasn't feeling well, so the medicine wasn't working yet, and he was going to go back to sleep and hope that it had started to work by the time he woke up again. So, I know that he was aware that you weren't at his bedside, but he wasn't upset," she explains as I pour tea from the thermos that my grandmother sent with me into the thermos cup.

"Any luck with figuring out your case yet?" I ask, pointing to the file that she'd placed on the bed table.

"It isn't _my_ case, but no, I haven't found anything that gives the defense a break. I've made some notes and written down some questions for Lafferty to ask his client, though."

"Like?" I ask, needing something to fill the time.

"I want him to ask our client about the radio. I want to know where the radio was that her roommate says that she was listening to when she was in the shower. I also want to know if she remembers hearing the radio when she came in the house."

"So, you still believe that the third roommate is the killer," I say as more of an observation, but she responds as if it were a question.

"Yes, but I don't know of any motive. Lafferty and I were supposed to meet for lunch to touch base tomorrow, but now, I'll have to cancel," she says, looking down at her hand, which is still wrapped around Tyler's.

"I managed to arrange for emergency leave while I was gone, too, so I can be here with him."

"Well, you have been busy, haven't you?" She sighs. "I didn't think that I'd get you to leave the hospital much, so I arranged for you to use the bed next to his to sleep in while you're here at night. The head nurse said that it would be all right for you to use it as long as it wasn't needed for a patient."

"You've been keeping busy yourself," I say with a cocked eyebrow.

She smiles sheepishly and takes a sip of her tea.

"Mac, really, we can't do anything for Tyler except wait for the antibiotics to kick in, but you can do something to help keep the scales of justice level. So keep your meeting with Lafferty. It'll make you feel useful and keep down your level of frustration at not being able to do anything for him," I say while reaching to place my hand around Mac's, which is still holding Tyler's."

"How are we going to keep _your_ frustration level down?" she asks lovingly.

"We?"

"Yes, we, you and me...for better or worse, remember? You're stuck with me."

"You can humor me when I kiss you for what seems to be no reason at all," I say before I lean over and kiss her softly on the lips.

When I pull back, there's a softness in her gaze and love in her eyes when she speaks.

"Well, if it helps you...you can kiss me anytime, Sailor," she says with a soft smile.

The fact that my return from DC was supposed to be a reunion with Mac of the intimate sort - our first time together since several weeks before Matthew was born - I find myself craving physical contact with her far beyond kissing.

However, with the current situation, I find it odd that I'm thinking about making love to her amid everything else that's going on. I rationalize that it's probably more the need for support than a need for sexual release, but I want her no matter the reason, so I need to change the subject, but to what?

Then I remember the case that we were discussing and start to speak.

"It also might help to distract me from worrying about Tyler if I can help with your case. You can eat your cookies while I read over the file."

She nods and takes another sip of her tea.

**1630**

We talked about Mac's, excuse me, Lafferty's case to keep ourselves occupied until about fifteen minutes ago when Tyler woke up, but he wasn't very alert and he's already drifting back to sleep.

I'm about to pick up our conversation about the Ballinger case when I see Mac yawn.

"I think that it's your turn to go home. You know, feed Matthew, have dinner with the girls and handle the bath time and bedtime routines so that our other children feel some kind of normalcy, and then get some sleep. You can come back tomorrow after you've had lunch with Lafferty. Oh, see if you can get hold of my parents. I had no luck either. I've been trying to figure out where they might be. I wonder if they took the yacht out today and that's why we haven't been able to reach them."

"I'll leave now, but I'll be back at midnight, and then you can come back about noon to relieve me so that I can have lunch with Lafferty," Mac informs me.

Before I can protest, she has her lips on mine. After she applies a tender kiss to my lips, she turns her attention to Ty.

"Momma is going to go check on your sisters and baby brother, but I'll be back about midnight. I love you," she says, even though he's asleep. Then she places a kiss on his forehead before turning to me and saying, "I'll see you at midnight, Sailor."

I just nod affirmatively because I wouldn't win even if I put up a fight.

**2207**

Mac left the file on the Ballinger case here when she left.

I've read and reread it until my eyes burn and my vision is blurred, so I decide to give the hospital bed a try that Mac arranged for me to use in order to rest my eyes and, hopefully, get some sleep.

**2330**

Even in my sleep, I can sense her presence.

I open my eyes and see her smile.

"I knew that the bed would work better for you," she whispers. Then she changes gears. "Your mother called. With everything that's been going on, I forgot that she told me that they were going to Big Bear for the weekend with another couple. After she ranted about how she should switch cellphone companies because she didn't get our messages until they were almost back to San Diego, I told her why we'd been so persistant in trying to reach them. She then told me that they'd be coming to the hospital in the morning."

I don't say a word. I just reach out and gently grasp her arm. She doesn't resist and moves towards me as requested.

Moments later, we're on our sides, facing Tyler's bed, fully clothed and spooned together.

It's the first time since I've been home that we've been able to lie down together, and it feels comforting.

I place a kiss in her hair. "Good night," I mumble into her ear.

"Good night," she whispers back as I feel her snuggling as close to me as she can.


	62. Chapter 62

**PART SIX**

**MONDAY, DECEMBER 10, 2007  
**  
**PEDIATRIC WARD  
BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER  
0339**

**HARM'S POV  
**  
Every time the night nurse came into the room, whether to remove an empty IV bag and hang a new one or to check the monitors and make notes, I woke up. I observed her every move, but didn't utter a word. I didn't want to wake Mac.

Every time after the nurse would leave, I'd listen for a change in the rhythm of the monitor beeps and blips for several minutes, hoping that her visit would result in news that Tyler was responding positively to the antibiotics and was well on his way to a full recovery. However, it didn't go that way. Instead, my mind would become numb and I'd fall back to sleep until the nurse returned.

I lift my left hand off Mac's hip to look at my watch, but I can't see the time in the dark room.

"0339," Mac whispers.

"I thought you were asleep," I whisper in her ear as I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck.

"I've dozed off a few times, but who can sleep in a hospital with nurses coming and going all night long?" She's trying to sound annoyed, but I know that she's more worried about Tyler than annoyed by the nurses.

"I know what you mean," I say before placing a kiss in her hair. "I'll make this up to you," I whisper.

"What do you have to make up for?" she asks, confused.

"I don't know … being gone for three days and, when I got home, we weren't able to share our bed. A hospital bed isn't really big enough for two, so we're stuck in one position in order to share."

"Harm..." She says my name like she's scolding a child as she turns in place to face me. "...you don't have anything to make up for. You didn't cause this situation, and although this certainly isn't my preferred way to be with you, our son is sick, and it's what we've got to do at the moment to be close to each other."

She applies a tender kiss to my lips.

"We're together, and that's what matters most," she says with such love that my heart skips a beat.

Fascinated by the strength of the woman in my arms, I say nothing, but I apply a kiss to her forehead and slightly tighten my hold on her.

She responds to my tighter embrace by burrowing her head against my chest.

"I don't know how I'd manage to give our other children the attention that they need and be here with Tyler at the same time. You don't have anything to make up for. You're here, and that's more than enough." Her words are slightly muffled as she breaks the silence that's fallen between us by turning her head without moving from my embrace.

I tighten my hold on her until our bodies are as close as they can be with our clothes on and I whisper to her, "I'm glad that you don't have to try to manage without me, but I know that, if I weren't here, you'd manage just fine."

"Because I'm a Marine?" she questions.

"No, because you're a good mother."

She lifts her head to reward my answer with a small smile and a sweet kiss.

"Because you're a good dad, you should go home, sleep in our bed and have breakfast with your other children."

"No, you should go home so that you can get some sleep, have breakfast with the girls and either nurse or refill a bottle or two for Matthew."

Mac pulls back from my embrace.

"Are they leaking again?" she asks, looking down at her chest to see if there are wet spots, which elicits a chuckle from me, which, in turn, earns me a playful slap on the chest from her.

"Nice try, but I'm still dry…and I went home last night. It's your turn to go home."

"Momma..." A hoarse voice from the bed next to us utters.

Mac jumps up, and I'm right behind her, dashing to Tyler's bedside.

"Yes, Ty, Momma's here," Mac says, reaching for his hand. "And Dad's here, too," she says as I come to stand behind her.

"I know. I heard the two of you arguing," he says sadly.

"It's just so quiet in your room that we didn't realize that we were talking so loudly, but we weren't arguing, Buddy. We were discussing which one of us should go home to check on your sisters and baby brother this morning," I say, trying to ease his concern.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to -" Ty begins.

Mac is the first to cut him off in order to dismiss that notion.

"No, you don't understand. We both want to stay with you, but one of us needs to go check on things at home. So, I was telling your dad that he should go home now because I have a business meeting to go to this afternoon, and Dad thinks that I should go home now and come back after my meeting, but I don't want to be away from you for that long."

Mac hasn't let go of his hand, and she's now begun to stroke his head with her other hand like she's brushing back invisible strands of hair off his forehead.

"Dad should go home," Tyler says, sounding more tired with each word.

"You want me to leave?" I say, surprised by his choice as well as a little hurt.

"Yeah, so you can bring some of my favorite books." He has to stop to take a deep breath or two before he can continue. "If I don't have enough energy to read them, will you read them to me until I feel better?"

Relieved that he didn't want me to leave because he's upset with me for being away or for some other reason that doesn't as easily come to mind, I respond, "Sure, Buddy, I can do that."

I whisper in Mac's ear, "I'll go after he's fallen back to sleep."

"I don't think that you'll be waiting very long," Mac whispers back.

I look down at our son. His eyes are heavy with sleep, so I believe that Mac is right. He won't be awake much longer.

**RABB HOME  
0425  
**  
I yawned a dozen times in the car between the hospital and home. However, I didn't need to count them to know that the limited amount of interrupted sleep that I got wasn't enough. I'm definitely still tired.

I enter the house to hear a strident scream, but I'm able to discern that the sound of Matthew crying - make that wailing - isn't coming from his room down the hall.

I follow the noise into the living room where I see my grandmother trying to soothe him by rubbing his back as she walks the floor with him, but to no avail. He isn't settling down.

"Grandma, what's..." That's all I get out before my grandmother spins around to face me.

"Harm..." I see the relief wash over her tired features. "He's been fussy all night. He hasn't really eaten, hasn't slept," she says over my son's wails.

"What do you mean that he hasn't really eaten?" I ask, trying to keep my voice loud enough that she can hear over his crying, but low enough that she doesn't think that I'm yelling at her.

"I mean that I've offered him a bottle. He sucks on it for a few seconds, maybe a minute, and then he starts to cry again. He isn't happy," she says as I reach where she's standing with him.

My first thought is that he's sick as I take him from my grandmother's arms, because I've never heard of him refusing a bottle or heard him carry on like this before.

I notice how red his face is as I settle him onto my shoulder.

"What's the matter with my baby boy? Are you not feeling well either?" I question him as if he can answer as I begin to rub his back, trying to appease him.

"I don't think that he's ill. I think that he's protesting the change in his routine," my grandmother says as she drops her tired frame onto the couch.

"Is Gee Gee saying that you miss your momma?" I say, adding a little sway to my soothing back rub.

"I'm saying that he misses both of you. Now before you start..." she says, holding up her hand. "...I know that it's important for you - both of you - to be at the hospital with Tyler right now, but you've got to realize that he isn't old enough to understand why you aren't here." She takes a breath. "Listen," she says.

"Listen to what?" I ask.

"Exactly! He started to settle down the moment he was in your arms ... heard your voice."

I stop all of my attempts to soothe him and just hold him and listen for a moment.

She's right. We automatically adjusted our volume as he quieted, and I hadn't noticed that he was calming down and that our last verbal exchange was at a normal level because his wails were down to whimpers.

I look at his face and see that the color of it is returning to his normal skin tone, too.

"Is that what had you all mad and red-faced? You missed Daddy?"

"By the time I get a bottle ready for him, he should be calm enough to eat. I'll bet that he's famished," my grandmother says before positioning herself to get up off the couch.

"I can heat his bottle. Why don't you go get some sleep?"

"I'll take a nap here on the couch if you promise that, after you feed your son, you'll get some sleep, too."

"I don't know if I can promise that. Mac will need time to come home and take care of a few things before she goes to her lunch meeting, so I have to be back at the hospital in a couple of hours. I can promise that, after I get my little guy fed and in bed, I'll _try_ to get in a nap before I have breakfast with the girls."

"I'll settle for that, since it's more than I thought that I'd get out of you. You can be so stubborn. I think you must have gotten that from the Rabb side of the family because your grandfather and father had a stubborn streak, too," she mutters as she lies down on the couch to take a nap.

I smile in response, but her position on the couch doesn't allow her to see it.

"Any requests for breakfast?" she asks through a yawn.

"No, and I can make them breakfast so that you can go back to bed and get some real rest," I answer, but when I stop talking, I hear a soft snoring sound and know that she probably didn't hear a word I said because she's asleep.

**MASTER BEDROOM  
0845  
**  
In my sleep, my mind registers the weight being removed from my chest, causing a simultaneous instinctive reaction from me: I hold more tightly onto my son and my eyes pop open.

"I thought that you'd be more comfortable if I moved him. I was trying not to wake you," Mac says softly as she abandons her attempt to lift Matthew from my chest.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I live here, remember?" she says with a smile as she sits down beside me on the bed. "Now, let me take Matthew. I'll make sure that he's all settled into bed before I leave to meet Lafferty. That way, you can get a few more hours of sleep."

Lafferty...the name causes a couple of cogs to click together, and I remember that she's supposed to be having lunch with him about the Ballinger case. Now I feel terrible about not being on time to take over at the hospital. Hospital...I feel worse now that I'm awake enough to realize that, if she and I are both here, Tyler is alone at the hospital.

"I can't believe that I overslept and missed getting to the hospital so you could leave for your meeting. I've got to get to the hospital. I don't want Tyler to be alone," I say, struggling to sit up without disturbing my son, who's still asleep on my chest.

"It's 0845. You aren't late to take over the watch, and Tyler isn't alone," she says as she reaches to remove Matthew from my chest to make it easier for me to get up. "I wouldn't have left him alone."

She sounds hurt that I'd even think that she'd leave him by himself.

"I'm sorry, Mac," I say sincerely.

"Your mom and Frank came to the hospital," she begins as she settles Matthew into place on her shoulder. "Your mother suggested that I take a break from the hospital, too. I was going to say no, but when I heard how Frank sounded when he was talking to Tyler and saw the look on his face..." The thought of Tyler's illness causes her to pause. "He loves that little boy so much. He needed to feel like he was doing something, too. I couldn't say no, so I waited until Tyler fell asleep and then I came home."

I reach for her, but she stands and moves towards the door, which puts her beyond my outstretched arm.

"Mac, I ..." I don't complete my thought because she doesn't acknowledge that I'm talking to her. She just moves closer to the door until she's out of the room.

'Maybe this exchange ... maybe this whole hospital thing is a dream,' I think as I close my eyes.

'Why is she being this way?' I wonder as I open my eyes again and stare at the ceiling.

Mac left the door open when she walked out with Matthew, so I'm not surprised that my thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of my energetic little girl.

"Daddy," Sami squeals. "Mommy said you were up."

"Yes, Ladybug, I'm awake now," I say, lifting her up off the floor and putting her down beside me on the bed.

"I missed you," she says, her gray/green eyes sparkling.

I pull her into a hug. "I missed you, too."

When I release her, she asks, "Since you and Momma are home, does that mean that Ty's better?"

"I'm afraid not, Ladybug. He's still very sick."

The sparkle in her eyes that she had just moments ago evaporates. The bright smile that she had when she saw that I was awake disappears, as well.

"That means Ty not coming home, and you and Momma going back to the hospital?" Sami asks.

"Yes."

Sami starts to pout.

"I know that you aren't getting to spend much time with Momma or me right now, but hospital's can be scary places for kids. You wouldn't want us to leave Ty there by himself when he might get scared, would you?"

"No," she replies as she frowns.

"You'd want Momma or Daddy to stay with you if you were the one in the hospital, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," she says with a little more sympathy for Ty, now that I've asked her to look at it if she were in his place. Then she asks a question that shows how smart she is. "You and Momma both home, so Ty is by himself now?"

"He isn't by himself. Your grandparents are with him."

She's content with my answer and moves on to the next topic on her mind.

Sami and I have been talking for a few minutes. I know that she missed me, and I've missed her, but I don't know how long my parents are planning to stay at the hospital. I need to get back there, but I don't want to hurt Sami's feelings to do it.

As if she read my mind from the other room, Mac appears in the doorway.

"Sami, Gee Gee wants you to help her in the kitchen."

"But I want to stay with Daddy," Sami whines.

"Well, Daddy needs to take a shower and get ready to go back to the hospital, but the faster you get out of here, the sooner Daddy can take his shower and get dressed, and I'll bet if you hurry, there will be time for you to sit with Daddy while he eats whatever you help Gee Gee make for him."

"Okay," she says, looking at Mac. Then she turns to me. "Hurry up and get ready, Daddy," she says as if it's more of an order than a request.

"Yes, Ma'am," I say with a chuckle as Sami dashes passed Mac and out of the room.

"Are you still angry with me?" I ask Mac as I get up off the bed.

"I wasn't angry," she says softly.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," I say as I reach for her.

This time, she steps into me.

"I know. You were so tired, and I woke you. I shouldn't have expected you to be thinking clearly. I also know that I'm tired and worried, too, so I'm sure that I took it a little too personally."

"So, we're okay?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yes," she says as she leans in and our lips touch briefly.

"You'd better get into the shower," she admonishes.

"Yeah, I need to get back to the hospital before Mom and Frank have to leave."

"When I told them that you'd planned to be back so that I could go to a lunch meeting, they said to tell you to take as long as you need to get some rest, have a decent meal and do whatever else you need to do because they'd stay until one of us got there."

"Then I'd better get cleaned up. Since I missed having breakfast with my girls, I want to spend a little time with them. They did get breakfast, didn't they?" I ask because it dawns on me that maybe my grandmother didn't wake me for breakfast because she'd been still sleeping.

"Yes, your grandmother fed them breakfast," she answers, sounding surprised by my question.

"Then I don't understand why she didn't wake me. I told her that I'd come home to have breakfast with them."

She brushes her lips across mine once more before explaining. "She said that, when she found you in here with Matthew on your chest, both asleep, she just couldn't bring herself to wake either of you because you both needed the rest."

I offer a half smile. "I do have to say that I do feel some better after getting some sleep in my own bed. You should come home after your meeting and give the bed a try, too."

"It's funny you said that. After hearing from your grandmother that Matthew was fussy last night, I was thinking that I don't have to meet with Lafferty. I could just call him to tell him the questions that I'd ask and give him my thoughts on how I'd handle the defense. If I called him, I could have lunch with the girls and try to squeeze in a nap. Then, I'll come to the hospital so that you can come home and have dinner with them, put them to bed, and get a few hours of sleep before you go back to the hospital. Then, tomorrow, we can trade. You get lunchtime with them, but I get breakfast and dinner along with bath and bed time. What do you think?"

"I like that plan," I say before pressing my lips against hers.

Our lips part a few seconds later, and she speaks.

"You'd better hit the shower, Mister, or our little Marine in training will be back in here to get you."

I release my hold on Mac. "Yeah, and she'd probably throw the book at me."

"You'd probably get brig time," she says with a chuckle as I turn to head to the bathroom.

I take a couple of steps and then stop. "You want to join me?" I ask without turning around to face her.

"I want to, but I'd better not," she says sadly. "When we have our son home again, you won't have to ask me to join you."

"I understand," I say as I resume my trek to the bathroom for that shower.

**LIVING ROOM  
2137  
**  
I enter the living room, my eyes searching the room for my car keys.

"They're on the kitchen counter," my grandmother says as my eyes scan over the coffee table.

"What's on the kitchen counter?" I ask.

"Your keys."

"How did you know -?"

She interrupts before I can finish the entire question. "You're headed back to the hospital, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then what else would you be looking for?" she says with a chuckle. Then her tone turns serious. "You give that boy a hug from me and tell him that Cocoa's ticket is booked. She'll be here on the fifteenth, so he needs to speed up his recovery because he doesn't want to miss her visit."

"I'll tell him, Grandma," I say before giving her a hug. "He's going to be okay."

"He'd better be," she says in a shaky voice. "You'd better get those keys and get out of here," she says as she pats my arm.

"Mac will be here tonight to take care of Matthew so that you can get some sleep," I tell her.

Her only response is a nod as I turn away to go into the kitchen to get my keys.

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER  
2200  
**  
I arrive at the hospital still worried about Tyler, but feeling more positive that I can be here for him while giving my other children some of my time, too, thanks to Mac's scheduling idea.

I get off the elevator and walk to the double doors that lead to the pediatric ward.

**PEDIATRIC WARD  
**  
I walk through the double doors to see Mac standing near the nurses' station, and the internal calm that I was experiencing just moments ago is gone. I'm bordering on panic.

I call out to her, "Mac!"

She turns and launches herself into my arms without saying a word. I wrap my arms around her as she buries her face in my chest.

I look up to the windowed room where Ty is and I can see the silhouettes of people in the room through the blinds, moving about in a flurry of activity. The sight causes my breath to catch in my throat.

Mac's body is quivering in my arms. She's crying.

My heart is racing, and I'm torn between going to my son's side and comforting my wife.

I start to rub a soothing hand over her back, opting to stay with Mac for the moment since I know that there are doctors and nurses in with Tyler who probably need room to do whatever they need to do for him.

Needing to know more about what's going on, I ask Mac, "What happened?"

Mac lifts her head, tears streaming down her face.

"He was the same and then, all of a sudden, his blood pressure started to drop and he was having trouble breathing. Alarms went off, and the room filled up with nurses. Then a doctor came in, and one of the nurses asked me to wait out here for the doctor."

"How long have they been in there with him?"

"I don't know."

Mac doesn't know how long the nurses and doctor have been in with Tyler? She must be beyond frightened for her internal clock to stop working, and that drives home the severity of the situation to me.

I feel the sting of tears starting to form in my own eyes. Mac needs me. I can't lose control of my emotions.

"Why didn't you call me?" I ask, masking my irritation that she didn't call to inform me of the change in Tyler's condition.

"I called the house. Your grandmother said that you'd already left and were on your way here, so I thought that it was better to wait until you got here than to call your cellphone and upset you while you were driving," she explains through her tears

I'm glad that I didn't let my emotions get out of control and snap at her for not calling me, because she'd tried our home number, and her rationale for not calling me on my cell is sound.

Mac leans into me once again, and I hold her close.

We stand like that for only a few moments before we hear, "Captain and Mrs. Rabb?"

We look towards the voice. It's the doctor. It's time to find out why our son's condition has worsened, and I'm not sure that I'm ready to hear it, but I need to know how he's doing and if or when I can see him.

"Why don't you come with me so that we can have some privacy while we talk?" the doctor says in that tone that they have that says to me, 'I don't want you to fall apart in front of everyone when I give you the bad news.'

"No, tell us here, now!" Mac demands, her voice strong and her tears gone. Her insistence is something with which I wholeheartedly agree.

"Let's at least sit down," he says, directing our attention to a door next to the nurses' station.

Mac and I make eye contact and silently agree that we'll hear the news sooner if we comply with his request rather than continue to fight it.

We look at him and offer a nod, showing our agreement. Then he turns, leading us over to the door that he'd indicated a moment ago.

Once we're all seated in the small room, he begins to speak.

"The problems that Tyler is having with breathing and his drop in blood pressure are caused by what is called sepsis."

My head is spinning as the doctor starts to explain what sepsis is, which, as he speaks, I remember the surgeon telling us about this condition right after Tyler's surgery.

"When can we see him?" I ask, cutting him off before he finishes his explanation.

"It'll be a little while. His condition is serious and needs to be monitored more closely than we're able to do on the ward, so I'm having him moved to the pediatric ICU. It'll be a few minutes before they have him settled in so that you can see him." He stops to let us absorb the information that he's just given us.

I've been holding Mac's hand since we started to walk towards this room and now I give it a little squeeze before I ask the big question.

"You say that it's serious. How serious? What are his chances?"

"I can't give you a definite answer to that question, but I can tell you that people do survive this type of infection. The fact that he has the resilience of youth and was previously in good health is on his side, so I'd say that his chances are better than most for a full recovery, but it will be a while before we can be sure." He pauses.

This time, I don't get the feeling that the pause is for our benefit. I think it's so that he can gather his thoughts to deliver the 'but' in his report.

I brace myself for the worst.

"I understand that one or both of you have been with Tyler while he's been in the hospital, so I should tell you that, because of the limited space in the ICU and the need for the staff to have easy access to the patient, we allow only one person to stay at the child's bedside. I'll arrange for both of you go in to see him for a few minutes tonight, but I want you to decide which one of you will stay before you go in."

"Understood, Doctor. Thank you," I say.

"Now, when you see him, he's going to look pale, and you'll see that he's been put on a ventilator to help him breathe."

There was the 'but'. I guess he was just easing into it.

I would've preferred a punch in the stomach to the news that my son's breathing is so bad that he needs the assistance of a ventilator.

"Is there anything else that we need to know?" Mac asks calmly.

"I think that's all for now."

"Then will you check to see if we can see him now, please?" she requests.

I don't know where she gets her strength. Even though she was in tears a little while ago, she seems in perfect control now, while my insides are in a knot and I'm barely holding it together.

Maybe she projects the strong Marine image for others to see, and I'm the only one with whom she can share her real feelings of fear.

"Sure," the doctor replies to her request. "You can wait right here. I'll have a nurse let you know when you can see him."

Mac says 'thank you' while I can offer him only a nod in response.

Mac squeezes my hand, causing me to look at her.

"You can stay with him tonight...like we planned," she says quietly.

"Thank you," I whisper back.

The room falls silent and stays that way until the nurse comes in to tell us that she'll show us the way to the PICU so that we can see Tyler.


	63. Chapter 63

**PART SEVEN **

**TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2007**

**PEDIATRIC ICU (PICU)**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**1058**

**HARM'S POV**

"Hey, Buddy, sorry I was gone for so long," I whisper to Tyler who's sleeping as I take a seat in the chair beside his bed.

I take his hand in mine as I continue, "Your doctor wanted to give you the once over, and he said that I was in the way, so I took the opportunity to visit the head. Then I stopped to grab a cup of coffee, which was, by the way, the worst cup of coffee that I've ever had, and I've had some awful coffee. I've drunk different blends in about every grade from regular to Navy Seal strength, some of them just strong, some of them just plain bad. Don't even get me started on the bad cups of tea that I've had over the years."

He doesn't care about my cups of bad coffee or tea, but I know that some believe that talking to a patient, even if they can't respond, is comforting to them.

I think that it's particularly important for a parent to talk to a child in the hospital. Sometimes it may be as helpful to keep the parent occupied while they wait as it is for the patient to hear the voice of their parent, letting them know that they're here and that they haven't given up hope that they're going to get better.

"Hey, when I got here last night, they were moving you, and I got all sidetracked, so I don't think that I remembered to give you the message from Gee Gee. Well, it may have been more of an order. Anyway, Gee Gee told me to tell you that you need to speed up your recovery because Cocoa's flight is booked. She'll be here on the fifteenth, and Gee Gee knows that you don't want you to miss Cocoa's visit, so you need to start feeling better soon."

I can't think of anything else to say at the moment, so I lean back in the chair. I take a look at my little boy, not of my flesh, but of my heart, and close my eyes to offer a silent prayer that he pulls through this.

A few moments later, my eyes are still closed, but amid all the things going on in the room, I sense her presence before I feel her hand on my shoulder and hear her ask in a soft voice, "How's he doing this morning?"

I open my eyes at her touch to see a refreshed looking Mac on the outside. Her makeup is perfect and she's wearing stylish clothes, but her eyes give away the fatigue and worry that she's carrying inside.

"On his morning rounds, his doctor said that he's no worse, but he's also no better," I reply.

"Did the doctor say anything else?"

I give Ty's hand a squeeze. "I want to talk to your momma, but I don't want to disturb you, so we're going to step out in the hall. Don't worry. I'll be back in a minute," I say to him before releasing his hand and reaching for Mac's.

**OUTSIDE THE PICU**

"Now will you tell me what the doctor said?" Mac asks, stopping abruptly the moment the PICU doors close behind us.

"He said that there's no change in his condition, so he believes that it's time to change his treatment."

"Meaning...?" she says impatiently.

"He's swapping out one antibiotic for another and adding one. The antibiotics can't be administered together, so it'll be several hours before they get a full dose of each into Tyler and a couple of days before they'll know if the new course of treatment is working."

"Did you ask him what happens if this treatment doesn't work?" she asks worriedly.

"Yes. He said that, if this doesn't work, there are still options left, but that there was no reason to discuss them at this time."

"So, in the meantime, we just wait," she says, sounding as frustrated as I feel by the situation.

"Yes," I say, my gaze locking on hers.

"Well then, I guess I know everything that I need to know to take over the watch. I'll meet you right here at 1600 to touch base again before I head home and you take over here."

"You can go back to the house. I've got things covered here. Say, don't you have to take Matthew for his six weeks checkup today?"

"His appointment was earlier this morning, and his doctor said that we have a very healthy baby boy. Now, Harm, you stayed here all night. It's my turn to be with him."

"I'm not leaving him again, Mac," I state firmly in a low voice, mystified that she'd suggest that I leave.

After all, the last time I left him, I came back to a boy in far worse shape than when I'd left, not that I blame her for that, but I want to be here if his condition changes, for better or worse.

Her stance becomes confidant and rigid, much like she's coming to attention in front of at least a two-star. Her tone is calm and even as she speaks.

"Harm, this is Tyler, not Mattie. He's my son, too. You don't have a choice in letting me be here this time. Now go home, see your daughters and hold our baby boy so that they know that you're there for them, too. We've got to do the best we can to be with all of our children while our family is in this crisis. We're going to stick to our schedule. I'll see you at 1600."

You could cut the tension between us with a knife as we stand there staring into each other's eyes, neither one ready to back down.

This is one of those times when her strength gets on my nerves, I think, as we continue to stand here, neither one of us giving an inch on our position.

"I could do this all day, but I think that we can both agree that spending time with our children is more important," she states in a flat, matter of fact, unemotional tone.

She's right about me needing to be with our other children and about the fact that she should have time with Tyler, too. Hell, she's right about everything, but just because she's right doesn't mean that I want to agree with her.

I take the time to admit to myself that fighting with her in this way is revitalizing to me. The sparks that fly between us when we disagree, whether it's about a case or who's going to stay at the hospital, gives me strength, a strength that no one else has ever been able to give me. I wonder for a moment if I give her strength in some way before I decide that it's time for me to concede defeat.

I raise my hand to cup her face, and she tilts her head into my touch. "Anything happen at home this morning that I need to know about?" I ask softly.

"No," she says in a whisper.

Then I notice that she seems to take strength from my touch.

I lean closer to her and cover her lips with mine.

Our current location keeps the kiss to just a simple touching of lips that lasts for only a moment, but long enough to exchange the feeling of love that we share for each other.

"I'll see you at 1600," I whisper near her lips as I pull away from her.

She offers only a nod before turning to go into the PICU to sit at our son's bedside.

**OUTSIDE THE PEDIATRIC ICU (PICU)**

**1554**

I've tried to keep a pace that will keep me from arriving at the rendezvous point with Mac too early, but a quick look at my watch tells me that I'm going to be about five minutes early as I approach the turn that will put me at the entrance to the PICU.

I'm standing outside the doors, waiting for Mac and thinking about how glad I am that I gave in and went home. Sami was thrilled to see me, and my baby boy never ceases to amaze me - he seems to be changing daily. Even Abigail seemed happy that I'd come home to see them.

"That's a very nice smile you have," Mac's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Which one of our children is responsible for putting it there?"

"Not one, all of them. Each one of them made me feel better in some way. I enjoyed my time with them."

"So, now are you willing to admit that I was right to stay and send you home?"

"I plead the fifth," I say with a smile.

"I'll take that as a yes, Counselor," she says with a warm smile in return.

"How's Tyler doing?" I ask.

"No change..." she says sadly before looking at it more positively by adding, "...but you said that the doctor warned that it would take a couple of days before we knew anything, so no change tonight isn't a bad thing. Were you expecting a change?"

"I wasn't expecting one, but I sure as hell was hoping for one."

"I know ... me, too." She waits a heartbeat before changing the subject. "Anything happen at home that I need to know about before I head out?"

"Nothing happened, but I should give you a heads up about my grandmother. Since my parents are planning to take the children on Thursday like usual, she's lobbying for you and me to spend a little time together, just the two of us while she stays with Tyler for a few hours."

"Harm, it's a nice thought, but do you think that we should do something like that while he's still in intensive care?"

"No, I don't, and that's what I told her, but I'm sure that she's going to work on whichever one of us is at home between now and then to make it happen. Once she sets her sights on something or gets an idea in her head, she can be as stubborn as you are."

"Thanks for the warning. If that's all..." I nod to indicate an affirmative answer. "...then I'll see you at 0600."

"0600," I get out before she applies a quick kiss to my lips.

"For the record, I'm not stubborn," she says against my lips as she pulls hers back from mine.

"You aren't stubborn? Well, you certainly know how to get your way. If that's not stubborn, what would you call it?"

She smiles widely and says, "See you in the morning." Then turning swiftly, she leaves me in the wake of her smile with the feel of her soft lips against mine.

**WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2007**

**THIRD FLOOR**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**1545**

I'm pacing outside the doors to the PICU.

I'm not nervous about making the swap with Mac. After three days of swapping places three times a day to take our turn sitting with Tyler, we've mastered the routine like a military precision drill, but unlike our other exchanges outside these doors this week, I won't have to say, "He's the same," when she asks how he's doing, and I'm pacing anxiously, waiting for her arrival to share the news about Tyler's condition.

I called her cellphone, but she didn't answer. The call went straight to voice mail. With Tyler in the hospital, I doubt that she'd have forgotten to charge the battery and, for the same reason, I don't believe that she'd have turned it off unless she's in or near the hospital, so I expect to see her coming around the corner any minute.

I've walked to the elevators and back to the PICU entrance twice, which is the path that she'd travel to get here, hoping to run into her just that much sooner.

I'm leaning against the wall next to the PICU doors, trying to be patient, but decide that a walk to the elevators again is a better idea.

I begin my walk and make it to the point in the corridor where I need to make a turn and, when I round the corner, I see Mac coming towards me.

She sees me.

"Harm, what's wrong?" she says, rushing towards me.

I extend my arms.

"Nothing's wrong. I just have news that I'm eager to share," I say as she reaches me, my arms slipping around her, enveloping her.

"There's news about Ty?" she asks as she rests her cheek against my chest.

"Yes. I tried to call you when I finished talking to the doctor, but my call went straight to voice mail. I knew that you must be in the area, so I've been waiting for you."

"I was in the chapel," she whispers.

"Our prayers must be working," I respond.

She lifts her head to look me in the eye. "What do you mean?"

"The doctor came in for his afternoon rounds like always, but when he finished his exam and reviewed the chart, he told me that he's ordering the removal of the ventilator, since it kicks in only when Ty has trouble breathing on his own, and that Ty hasn't needed it for the last few hours. If Tyler has no trouble breathing on his own and his blood pressure remains stable for the next twelve hours, he'll feel comfortable in saying that the worst is over."

"Are you saying that he believes that he's going to be okay?"

"He said that the improvement in his blood pressure and the fact that he's comfortable with removing the ventilator tells him that Tyler is responding to the new regimen of antibiotics. He also said that, if he continues to improve at the same rate, Tyler should be moved back to the regular ward by Friday morning at the latest."

"Really?" she questions calmly, but her eyes are sparkling.

"Really," I say before covering her mouth with mine.

The kiss becomes heated, which wasn't my intent when I decided to kiss her, but the good news, our time apart and the current closeness of our bodies conspire together to temporarily take over my sense of decorum.

When the urge to deepen the kiss has my tongue tracing her lower lip, wanting entrance into her mouth, we both pull back, breathless, breaking the kiss.

There's heat radiating from inside of me.

I know that she's experienced the same because her cheeks are flushed.

It takes me a moment to regain my wits so that I can speak.

"Since he's doing better, maybe, when he's back on the ward, we should accept my grandmother's offer to stay with him. I think that you and I are long overdue for some time alone," I suggest.

"If he's okay with her sitting with him, you'll get no argument from me. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," I say before pulling her in close to me again, hugging her tightly.

We stand just embracing each other for a few moments, but as much as I'm enjoying the contact with Mac, the restrictions of our environment and the need to be with Tyler require that I release my hold on her.

"Let's go see Tyler together for a few minutes, and then I'll duck out to have dinner with the girls and spread the news that Ty's doing better."

I take her hand, and we start to walk casually back towards the PICU.

**THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2007**

**PEDIATRIC ICU (PICU)**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**0610**

"I talked to Momma outside for a couple of minutes before she left to go home to help Gee Gee get your brother and sisters ready to go to Grandma's for the day," I say, taking his hand.

"Momma said that you had a good night. She said that you woke up for a couple of minutes, but you were still pretty out of it, so she wasn't sure that you knew that she was here," I say while sitting down in the chair next to his bed.

"Well, she was here, and now I'm here, Buddy. So, if you want to wake up and let me see those blues eyes of yours, it sure would make me feel better."

I get no response from him as I settle back into the chair for another day of the same.

**1125**

The fact that he's remained off the ventilator should be enough for me to know that he's getting better, but I've been sitting here this morning, skimming through magazines just looking at the pictures between bouts of staring at him for any sign that he's improving.

I'm trying to stay positive, but I'm waiting for that relief valve inside of me that releases the pressure when you know in your gut that everything's going to be okay, but, so far, mine has maintained pressure, leaving me feeling as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, that there's something else that's going to happen or some long-term deficiency that he's going to have because of this.

"I had an emergency this morning, so I'm running late, but the nurses told me that Tyler is doing well without the ventilator." The doctor's voice catches me in one of my bouts of staring at Tyler.

"My wife told me when we traded off this morning that he'd opened his eyes briefly during the night, though she didn't know if he was really aware of where he was or what was going on around him," I inform him.

"I'm glad to hear that he opened his eyes. Even if he didn't seem alert or stay awake long, it's a good sign that he's regaining some strength," the doctor says with a smile before he dismisses me to examine Tyler so that he can give me an update.

**OUTSIDE THE PICU**

**1143**

The doctor steps out to speak with me, but is surprised by the fact that I'm not alone. Mac and another woman, who he doesn't know, have joined me.

Seeing his surprise, I introduce the older woman who's with us.

"Doctor, this is my grandmother, Sarah Rabb."

He extends a hand.

"You look much too young to be his grandmother, let alone to be a great grandmother," he says as they shake hands.

"Thank you, Doctor," my grandmother says with an appreciative smile, but his charm doesn't sidetrack her from the matter at hand. "How's my great grandson?" she asks after the polite handshake has ended.

The doctor looks from me to Mac and, after getting nods from both of us that it's acceptable to talk in front of her, he gives us an update.

"He's doing as I expected. His blood pressure is better. He's had no problems breathing without the ventilator. The latest report on his blood work indicates another drop in the white cell count, meaning that the infection is responding to the current antibiotic treatment."

"Do you still think that he'll be out of ICU by tomorrow?" I ask the doctor.

"If he continues to improve at the same rate, I don't believe that goal is out of reach, but I need to be clear. Getting him back on the ward is just the first step in getting him home. He's looking at five days minimum and up to ten days of IV antibiotics in the hospital before we can switch him to oral medication to let him go home."

"A week to ten days...then he should be home for Christmas?" Mac asks, trying hard to conceal her excitement at the thought of our family being home _together _for the holiday.

"I can't be certain at this point, but I think that a Christmas homecoming is within the realm of possibility," he says with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, Doctor," I say before both Mac and my grandmother echo the sentiment, and the doctor leaves us to continue his rounds.

**HOSPITAL CAFETERIA**

**1200**

My grandmother wore us down over the last couple of days, but she didn't get her way completely. Mac brought her to the hospital to sit with Tyler while she and I have lunch together at the hospital cafeteria. With Tyler still in the ICU, there's just no way that either one of us is willing to leave the hospital without one of us being here with him.

With news that Tyler may be home for Christmas, I'm feeling better, and Mac must be, too, because she bought a huge lunch. I'm hungry, too, but I opted for a healthy lunch.

We sit down at a table, and I watch her take a forkful of salad that she got as the first course of her meal.

"Hungry?" I say in a teasing tone.

She swallows her first bite.

"I don't know why you'd say it like that. I got only a small salad, a chicken breast, mashed potatoes, green beans and a slice of chocolate cake." She diverts her eyes from mine. "I did get kind of carried away, didn't I? I just haven't been very hungry for the last few days."

"I know, me either, so I'm glad that you're eating, but if you start to get full, maybe we can share that piece of cake. It looks pretty good," I say with a smile.

She looks up again, our eyes meeting, "Can we change the subject?"

I can see the glimmer of happiness in her eyes that our son's improved condition has put there, and since she isn't only taking turns at our son's bedside, but breast-feeding our baby and so many other things, I know that it's good that she's taking in some calories and I don't want my teasing her to keep her from eating, so I'm more than willing to change the subject.

"Yes, we can change the subject because I've been meaning to ask if you've heard back from Lafferty about your suggestions and how they panned out for him concerning the Ballinger case."

"I actually talked to him yesterday. His client said that the only radio that she knows about in the house is the stereo in the living room, but she says that she didn't notice that the radio was on when she came into the house. So, if it was on, it certainly wasn't loud enough to have kept her roommate in the shower from hearing the commotion going on a couple of rooms away when the victim was trying to fight off her attacker."

"It sounds like you may be right about the roommate in the shower, but does Lafferty think that he can prove it?" I ask.

"He's checking on what kind of motive she could possibly have, but he hasn't found anything yet and, with opening arguments scheduled for Monday morning, he thinks that the best approach is to wait and impeach her testimony on the stand."

"It sounds as if he's got reasonable doubt on his side, if nothing else."

"Yeah, but I'm really hoping that he can break the roommate or her boyfriend on the stand to expose the real killer and not just win the case."

"You said that opening arguments aren't until Monday?"

"Yeah, why?" she asks curiously.

"I'm thinking that, by Monday, Tyler should be doing much better and that maybe you should go sit in on the trial."

"I don't know, Harm. Tyler might be okay with me working for a few days if you're staying with him, but I have to think about our other children as well as Lafferty. I don't want Lafferty to think that I'm checking up on him or trying to take over his case."

"This case has been under your skin from the start, so I think that you should see it through to the end."

"What about Lafferty?"

"I think that, if he had a problem with you being involved, he wouldn't have called you yesterday to fill you in."

"You could have a point," she says before changing the subject. "Do you realize that there's only twelve days left until Christmas?"

"I knew that it was getting close, but I didn't realize that it was that soon."

"I guess we'd better spend the rest of our lunch trying to agree on what to get the kids and how we're going to squeeze time into our schedule to Christmas shop on top of everything else that we've got going on."

That's exactly how we spend the next couple of hours. Whether it's sitting in the cafeteria sharing a piece of chocolate cake after finishing our lunch or walking the grounds hand-in-hand, we talk about what we need to do to get ready for Christmas.

Our final stop before going back up to the PICU is to stop by the chapel and pray that Tyler will be home with us to celebrate Christmas.

**PICU**

**2200**

Trying to keep the established schedule, Mac took my grandmother to my parents' home to have dinner with the other children while I stayed here with Tyler.

I've managed to actually read some of the articles in the magazines, which I'd previously been able to only glance at the accompanying pictures while I sat at Tyler's bedside.

I've spent time calculating the amount of leave time that I'll have left if I don't go back to work until Tyler's released from the hospital and how I could save some leave for a father and son trip when he's feeling better if I went back to work on Monday.

I've also thought about my plans to take the children to a tree farm to cut down our Christmas tree, but I don't want to do that if Tyler can't come along.

In fact, a lot of the things that I've thought about this evening depend on how Tyler's doing and if he's out of the hospital.

I close my eyes and lean back in the chair, but I sit up straight when I hear his voice.

"Dad..." It's soft and weak, but he's awake.

"Yeah, Buddy, I'm right here," I reply, taking his hand.

"Did I sleep through Christmas?" he asks.

"No, Buddy. Christmas is still eleven days away."

"I don't have a present for you," he states sadly.

"Ty, son, having you well and being able to have you with us is gift enough for me and your mother."

"Then I guess you're stuck with me. I'm tired, but I do feel better."

"Being stuck with you sounds like the perfect gift to me. Now, you get some rest, and we'll talk some more in the morning when Momma gets here, okay?"

"Okay," he replies, his eyes already closed, our short conversation having worn him out.

Once I'm sure that he's asleep, I slip away and call Mac to tell her that he was actually awake and alert enough for us to have a brief conversation.

After Mac has had me repeat our conversation verbatim, she tells me that she'll be by early in the morning to see if Tyler is up to a chat with her and to hear what his doctor has to say when he makes his morning rounds.

I return to Ty's bedside. Now that the relief valve in my gut has released the pressure, when I lean back in the chair and close my eyes, I doze off easily.


	64. Chapter 64

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - THE JOYS OF CHRISTMAS**

**PART ONE**

**THURSDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**0530**

**HARM'S POV**

I lie here in bed after turning off the alarm, thinking about the past week.

Tyler was moved back to the regular pediatric ward last Friday, the 14th of December.

The following day, Saturday the fifteenth, my parents were eager to see Tyler now that he was back on the ward and probably felt more like having visitors. So my parents stayed with him at the hospital while Mac took the other children Christmas shopping and picked up supplies for the dog while I took my grandmother to the airport to pick up Cocoa.

I don't think that Cocoa enjoyed the flight, or maybe it was traveling in a crate that she wasn't fond of doing because she seemed a little skittish on the ride home.

"Cocoa's used to feeling the wind in her face. Before today, she's only ridden in the bed of the old truck on the farm," my grandmother offered in explanation to Cocoa's behavior a few minutes into the drive home.

After my grandmother informed me that this was also her dog's first real car trip, I'm almost positive that the poor animal was in some kind of shock at being confined for so long.

Once we got Cocoa to the house, it didn't take much coaxing to get her to start checking out the place.

After giving Cocoa time to investigate the house, I took her for a short run on the beach with me so that she could stretch her legs.

By the time Mac and the children arrived home, Cocoa was lying at my grandmother's feet as she sat in a chair in the living room, crocheting.

There was a light in Abigail's eyes at the sight of Cocoa that we'd never seen before. Mac and I gave each other a nod, knowing that we were going to have to give acquiring a family dog some serious consideration after Ty was home and things were more settled around here.

With Tyler back on a regular ward and doing so much better, I felt that I no longer needed to be on emergency leave. However, with enough leave on the books to cover it and, after a call to my office to be sure that the place was running smoothly in my absence, I opted to stay on leave until Tyler was out of the hospital.

With me on leave and more than willing to be at the hospital with Tyler, not to mention that he seemed to be enjoying the one-on-one time with me since he loved for me to read to him, Mac decided that she'd sit in the gallery and observe the Ballinger trial.

With Mac's decision to attend the trial, our schedule for time at the hospital needed to change.

Since Monday, the arrangement has been like this: I go to the hospital after having breakfast with the family to let Mac return home to get ready to go to court. After court, Mac goes home. After having dinner with the family, she comes to the hospital to spend the night with Tyler while I go home, but that schedule isn't going to be the same today.

With the doctors saying that Tyler should be released from the hospital in a few days, the time of crisis is over, and I'm comfortable with the idea of someone else staying with Tyler while I do a few things to get ready for Christmas.

Today is Thursday, and that means that my parents are going to have all the children except Tyler today.

With Mattie and Tom coming in tomorrow, today seems to be the perfect opportunity to cash in on my grandmother's offer to keep Tyler company at the hospital so that I can do some things around the house to get ready for their visit.

With a deep sigh of relief that Tyler will soon be well and back home and that Mattie will be home again, too, I throw off the covers and get out of bed, ready to start a new day.

**BALBOA NAVAL HOSPITAL **

**PEDIATRIC WARD **

**0720**

Mac greets me at the door to Tyler's room the way that she's been doing all this week.

"Hey," she says softly as I reach her, raising my arm to place my hand on her shoulder.

"Sleep well?" I ask in a whisper before leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting while sliding my hand down her back to give her a brief hug.

"I slept okay for sleeping in a hospital," she replies and then adds, "I want him home, Harm."

"I know, so do I. We just have to hang in there a little while longer. His doctor says that he should be home for Christmas, and that's only four days away."

"I know, but four days seems like forever right now."

I let out a snort. "Now you sound like Sami. While we were eating breakfast, she asked how many more days until Christmas, and when I told her that she still had four days left, she said that it was taking too long."

"Are you still going to pick up the tree today?" Mac asks, changing the subject.

"Yes, Tyler said that he'd be okay for a few hours without one of us here during the day. He can sit in the recreation area..." I tilt my head, indicating the small area with a table and chairs for puzzles and games, and the TV and video games console near the nurses' station. "...with the other kids and watch a movie or play games with them. I think he's okay with it because playing with them reminds him of being at home with his sisters." My statement gets a questioningly look from Mac. "He's doing so much better that I don't know why, but I didn't want him to be here without one of us either, so Frank is bringing my grandmother by at 0930 to be here while he and I go get trees from the place where he gets theirs every year."

"Good plan. Since Trish told me that she's going to have the children help decorate the tree at their place tonight, I thought that I'd put up a few decorations at our house this afternoon between the time I get home from court and come back to the hospital. I want to make the place look Christmasy for Mattie and Tom's arrival tomorrow."

"Christmasy, is that a word?" I say teasingly, but I've interrupted her.

"It is in my dictionary," she says before effortlessly flowing back into her original train of thought. "I know that he may not be strong enough to help much, but I want Ty to get in on a few of the joys of Christmas, so I don't want to decorate the tree until he comes home. If he doesn't get to come home before Christmas Eve, we'll go ahead and decorate it without him, but I don't want to run the risk of not having a good looking tree because we didn't buy it soon enough. Make sure that you get a really nice tree, you know, tall, but not too tall, full, but not too full -"

"So, no Charlie Brown tree?" I say with a mischievous smile, interrupting her and earning a disapproving look. "I could talk to Frank when he brings my grandmother to see if he'd pull a shift later today with Tyler so that you and I can go pick out a tree together after you get out of court if you're worried that I won't pick out a good tree."

"It isn't necessary that I come with you. I'm sure that you'll pick the right tree because, just like me, you want our children to have the best childhood Christmas memories that we can possibly give them, one of them being decorating a beautiful tree. Now, I need to get going," she says before pushing up on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips before giving me a smile and saying, "I'll be back here at the usual time. See you tonight," she says cheerfully.

We press our lips together in one last brief kiss.

As she walks away, my eyes and thoughts are fixed on her, and not for the first time in the past couple of days.

My first thoughts are of how she talked about Christmas with such starry-eyed excitement like a child, when I know that her own childhood Christmas memories aren't so wonderful.

However, those thoughts are fleeting as my eyes drift down her departing form and settle on her six, the sway of her hips mesmerizing me.

My desire to chase after her and kiss her far more passionately courses through me, and my jeans suddenly become much tighter.

I stand hypnotized by her beauty and can do nothing except watch her until the doors of the ward close behind her, keeping me from viewing her any longer.

However, the urge to run my hands over her curves and cover her body in soft kisses doesn't leave me just because she's gone from sight.

I take a deep breath, thinking that, with only four days left until Christmas, the day by which we've been told that Ty should be home, ending our separate shifts at the hospital, I should have no longer than that to wait until I can make love to my wife again.

I exhale slowly as I enter Tyler's room, hoping that my need to be with her isn't embarrassingly obvious.

**RABB HOME**

**1300**

Frank and I stand back to look at the tree that we've set up in the corner to the right of the fireplace.

"I wish that Mac were here so that she could tell us if this is where she wants the tree," I state.

"I'd suggest that you call her, but you mentioned earlier that she was attending a trial, so that wouldn't be a good idea," Frank comments.

"Yeah, not a good idea," I repeat.

We stand staring at the tree, thinking over what we might do when I feel that sensation that I get any time when Mac is near, but I dismiss it because she's in court today.

"We could call your mom to see if she has a suggestion as to where the tree should go. You know, get a woman's perspective. What do you think?" Frank pipes up.

"I think, if you position it half way between the corner and the fireplace on the other side, none of the tree limbs will block the mantle or stockings, and when it's decorated, the lights will be able to be seen outside through the window at night...and the tree will still be close enough to the fireplace that it'll make a nice setting for Christmas pictures," Mac says cheerfully as she enters the room.

I turn, and my eyes immediately start to drink in the sight of her.

Her jacket is well tailored and conforms nicely to her curves, and the skirt is a professional length, but just the shape of her leg up to her knee makes me want to see more, so I'm able to choke out only the question, "On a lunch recess or done for the day?" Then my head, perhaps a lower one than the one on my shoulders, starts to think about how hot she looks in her cream colored suit, causing me to lose any other thought that I might have had.

"Neither, it's over. Lafferty was great," she replies, moving closer to where Frank and I are standing.

"Over until after the holiday?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off of her, but trying to overcome my lust. My dad's in the room, after all.

"No, just over, as in completed. The boyfriend started it all when Lafferty got him to admit that he didn't hear a radio at any point after he arrived, not when he saw the victim and the accused, and not when he went looking for his girlfriend to see if she'd been hurt. Then Lafferty got the girlfriend, the third roommate, on the stand and, within five minutes, he had her on the ropes, and it was just a matter of time before he had her confessing to her crime," Mac recounts for us before changing the subject. "I'm going to go change and then I can help move the tree," she says as she unbuttons the bottom button on her jacket.

"We can handle moving the tree, but you can't go anywhere until you tell us if Lafferty uncovered a motive," I say, trying to focus my eyes on her face and not on her fingers that are unbuttoning her jacket.

Frank, who must have been caught up in the case by hearing her recount today's events, chimes in on the matter, too, "Yeah, why did she do it?"

Mac has unbuttoned the last button on her jacket, and now that the jacket is open, it reveals a small strip of the chocolate brown silk blouse that she's wearing underneath it.

I have to keep a silent chant going inside my head. 'Quit looking at her chest, Rabb. Focus on her mouth, her eyes or what she's saying, but quit staring at her breasts before everyone can see that you want to help her out of her clothes right now.'

I manage to look up at her face as she tells us more, but it isn't helping much because her hair is up, exposing her neck, and I have to fight with myself to keep from pulling her to me and laying a trail of kisses from the nape of her neck up to her ear and over to her mouth.

"It seems that the victim overheard a conversation that "shower girl" was having on the phone in which she divulged the fact that she'd had an abortion a few weeks prior, that her boyfriend wanted children and that he could never know that she'd done it. When she realized that the victim had overheard, she claims to have asked her to keep quiet, that it was a personal matter and that she should stay out of it. She said that her roomate said that she wouldn't go out of her way to tell him, but if he asked her again why she'd been acting weird for the last couple of weeks, she wasn't sure that she could withhold the information, that she'd have to think about it."

"You said that Lafferty got her to confess to the crime, but did he get her to tell the court exactly what happened?" I ask, the lawyer in me needing to know the whole story or as much of it as is known.

"Not in too much detail. She said that she remembers getting upset to the point where she was screaming at the victim. Then she claims that the next thing that she can clearly remember is kneeling next to the body, her clothes covered in blood. She put the knife down and wanted to get the blood off herself. She remembers stripping off her clothes and putting them in the washing machine along with some other clothes, like she was just doing any old load of laundry. She then checked to make sure that she hadn't dripped any blood on the floor leading to the laundry room. She then got in the shower. Since both she and her boyfriend's stories agreed that he'd gone into the bathroom to get her and they'd come out to the kitchen together, the police had assumed that her footprint in the blood next to the body had been the result of them checking to see if the victim was still alive. However, Lafferty questioned how her footprint could be there and not the boyfriend's unless he didn't get close enough to check the body. When Lafferty realized that there were no signs of water mixed in with the blood on the floor in the lab reports, it led him to the question, 'Who dries off completely when they're pulled from the shower to check on someone who might be in need of medical help?' The answers that he could come up with were: she either knew that the victim was already dead, so she was in no hurry and took the time to dry off, or the footprint was left during or just after the murder before she got into the shower, meaning she'd either committed the crime or had witnessed it."

"So, you were right. The roommate in the shower did it," I comment.

"Yes, but being right doesn't make me feel good about it. I know that finding out who killed someone doesn't change the fact that someone is dead, but I get a very satisfied feeling in knowing that I, in this case, Lafferty, didn't let them get away with it."

"I know what you mean," I state with certainty, completely understanding the way that she feels.

"With the case off my mind, Tyler doing so much better, and Mattie and Tom due in tomorrow, it's starting to feel a lot more like Christmas. So, while the two of you move the tree, I'm going to go change so that I can put up a few decorations to make the place look more -"

"Christmasy," I say, cutting her off again, but finishing her sentence for her.

"I was going to say more like we've got the Christmas spirit, but Christmasy works, too," she says with a sweet smile before turning to walk away.

I don't realize that I'm entranced as I watch her leave until Frank's voice registers in my mind.

"Harm, are you okay?"

I turn to look at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's move the tree."

With the tree already set in the stand, it takes us only a minute to move it.

When we step back to see if it meets with Mac's instruction of being halfway down the wall on the other side of the fireplace, I find out that there's something else on Frank's mind.

"I think that's about halfway, don't you, Frank?" I ask.

"My guess is that Mac will tell us if it's in the right place when she gets back," Frank says with a chuckle.

"I'll bet she will, too. So, you want to leave before she finishes changing?" I suggest with a playful smile.

"I know that this is none of my business, but the sparks coming off the two of you were a little hard to miss. When was the last time that the two of you had any time alone?" he asks.

"We had lunch together last week ... just the two of us at the hospital cafeteria while Grandma stayed with Tyler."

"That's nice, but how long has it been since you had any time to be alone, you know ...be together?" he inquires, tilting his head and doing a one-shoulder-shrug, obviously uncomfortable with asking, but apparently feeling that he should or needs to ask.

I start to tell him that he's right - it's none of his business, but I know that he's just concerned about me and my marriage staying strong. However, that doesn't mean that I'm any more comfortable with answering him than he was with asking me.

I wait for a couple of moments, debating if I really want to answer him at all before I break down and decide to be honest with him.

"Months...the last time was before they put her on bed rest near the end of her pregnancy. When Matthew was six-weeks old and she had her checkup, I was out of town and, when I got back, Ty was sick, and we've been splitting our time between home and the hospital." I sigh. "You just witnessed the first time that we've even been in the house at the same time since Ty was admitted to the hospital."

Realizing that I hadn't been correct with my statement, I amend it by saying, "I take that back. We had a 'two ships passing' kind of contact here the morning that you and Mom stayed with Tyler when you came back from Big Bear a couple of days after he was admitted."

"I'd be happy to take a shift at the hospital tonight so that you two could do a little Christmas decorating, have a nice dinner...just have some time together ... alone."

"Thanks for offering, Frank, but Mac and I ... we'll be okay."

"Your other children are already scheduled to be at our place overnight, and your grandmother can stay at our place as well. She can help Trish with the kids while I stay with Ty tonight at the hospital."

I have to say that I'm really giving his suggestion some thought, but he isn't finished with trying to convince me yet.

"Look, Son, with Mattie and her father coming in tomorrow and Tyler hopefully coming home in a few days, if you don't take me up on the offer for tonight, you won't be able to have a night alone with your wife like this until after the first of the year."

"I'm sure that Ty would be okay with you taking a shift, but you'll never get Mac to give up her time tonight with Ty," I say with a sigh, more thinking out loud than giving him an answer.

"So, if I can get Mac to give up her shift, you'll take me up on my offer?" Frank asks with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"That's right. If you can get Mac on board, you've got yourself a deal...but you aren't going to get her to agree," I say with conviction.

"We'll see. I've been married to your mother for a lot of years now and I can tell you that, with her, it's all in how you ask," he says confidently as we look at the new placement of the tree.

I don't know what emotion I'm feeling. Whether it's more excitement at the thought of having a night, even a few hours alone with Mac or disbelief that Frank and I are at a place in our father/son relationship where we could or would even discuss the fact that Mac and I haven't been together in months.

I take my eyes off the tree and hazard a glance at Frank.

His eyes are fixed on the tree, but I don't think that he's thinking about whether Mac will be happy with the new location of the tree. I think he's contemplating how he's going to get Mac to stay home from the hospital tonight.

I turn my attention back to the tree, and it's only a moment later that we hear Mac's voice.

"Are you two headed back to the hospital or do you have more stops to make before you make it back there?" Mac asks, coming into the room.

"We're all done and headed back to the hospital if you're satisfied with where the tree is now," Frank explains.

"Yes, thank you. The tree looks much better there," she replies. "Give Ty a hug for me and tell him that I'll be there after I get a few things done to get ready for Mattie's visit."

"Mac, about you going to see Ty tonight...I was wondering if I could take some or all of your shift tonight," Frank says disarmingly.

"It's sweet of you to offer, but I can get what I want done here and still make it to the hospital tonight to take over for Harm," Mac replies.

"I wasn't being sweet," Frank says as he lowers his head, looking at the floor as if he's ashamed as he continues, "I was thinking that, after being with the other children and doing Christmas stuff with them, I'm really going to miss Ty even more than I have been and that, if I could take your night shift...or at least a good portion of it, I could still do the tree decorating with my granddaughters and spend time with Tyler as well, maybe show him some pictures of what the tree looks like, talk about how quickly it's going to be baseball season and, you know, other guy stuff." He pauses for only a heartbeat. "He'll be home soon, and I can see him then. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Frank says apologetically.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like you couldn't have time with him. It's just that I'd planned to do a few things here before going to the hospital and I don't want to go a whole day without seeing him, but I guess I could. Harm could explain why I'm not coming tonight when you take him back to the hospital."

I think that she's thinking out loud with the latter part of her comment more than she's giving Frank an answer.

"I understand that it's your time with him, but what if you could do both? If I may suggest, you and Harm could go to the hospital together since he and I are finished with picking up the trees. We left Harm's car at the hospital, so, when Sarah's ready to go, Harm could bring her to our house so that she can have dinner with us. Then I'd come to the hospital to relieve you when dinner is over at our place. When it's time, Harm can relieve me so that you can have a chance to sleep in a bed tonight instead of one of those reclining hospital chairs."

"Sleeping in a real bed does sound really tempting..." she says, her voice trailing off.

"If you think about it, the timing is perfect. You'll be able to get a good night's sleep before Mattie gets here and the Christmas festivities really kick into high gear," I say, adding my thoughts to Frank's persuasive case for her to give up the night shift.

"That's true," she says, looking at no one in particular as she gives Frank's suggestion serious thought.

After a long moment, she looks at me and asks, "Do you think that Ty would mind the change in our visitation schedule?"

"When we explain that you'll be getting the house ready for his homecoming, Christmas and his big sister's arrival, along with the fact that he'll be able to talk baseball with his grandpa, I don't think that he'll mind at all," I answer sincerely.

"Is it all right with you if we change the schedule?" she asks me.

"I'm okay with it if you are," I reply, hiding my delight that I'm going to get to spend at least a few hours with her..._if _she agrees.

"If the change in schedule upsets Ty, we'll call Frank to let him know and stick to our usual schedule, agreed?" she asks, glancing first at Frank and then at me.

I assume that she wants both of us to agree to her condition before we proceed.

"Agreed," Frank and I say practically in unison.

"Then Harm and I will leave for the hospital as soon as I get my jacket and purse from the bedroom," Mac says, speaking to Frank.

Not another word is said until Mac leaves the room.

"I bow to the master." I don't bow correctly, but I do bend forward before straightening up and continuing, "I didn't think that you'd get her to agree, but you did, and I'm impressed."

"Don't give me too much credit until we've pulled this thing off. I'll call your grandmother at the hospital to let her know the plan. When you leave the hospital, bring her back here so that she can pick up anything that she needs to stay with us tonight. Call me when she has her things together and is ready to leave here. I'll come by to pick her up. That way, Sami won't hold you up at our house, and it'll give you a little extra time to get Mac some flowers, light some candles... I don't know, but do something that you know that she'll like and have it ready when she gets home, which should be around seven, depending on traffic."

"I can do that ... and, Frank, thanks a lot for this."

"No problem, consider it an early Christmas present," Frank says with a sly smile.

"I'll be at the hospital at 2300 to take over for you, if that's okay with you," I tell him.

"No, you won't. I'll leave the exact time up to you, but enjoy sleeping in the same bed as your wife, and I'll see you in the morning," Frank replies with a grin.

I'm about to offer an argument when I sense her presence, stopping me from saying anything more.

"I'm ready," Mac says from the entryway, confirming what I already knew ... that she's back in the room.

I look at Frank, who smiles smugly, knowing that he's gotten his way because I'm out of time to argue.

I nod at him, acknowledging my defeat before turning to face Mac. "I'm ready, too. Let's go."

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**1903**

Mac called when she left the hospital, and she should be here any minute.

I'm trying to be patient, but I'm finding it harder as each second ticks by.

The thought of having an evening alone with my wife is driving me to distraction.

I open the oven door to check on the vegetarian lasagna that I've made for a late dinner.

As I close the oven door, I get a little nervous when the thought strikes me - what if Mac doesn't see the decorating that we did as a _nice_ surprise?

Before I've had the chance to shake that thought from my head, I hear the sound of the door open, which connects the kitchen with the garage. She's home.

"When you left the hospital and told me that you wanted me to call you when I headed home, I had no idea that it was because you were making dinner," Mac says, sounding surprised.

"Since you were at the hospital all afternoon, I didn't think that you would've taken time to eat. You haven't eaten, have you?"

Having closed the distance between us as I spoke, I quickly give her a peck on the lips in greeting.

"No, and it smells wonderful. Do I have time to take care of a few things before dinner is ready?" she asks, seeming anxious to get away from me.

It seems silly since this isn't going to be our first time, but it's going to be the first time since the birth of our son, and I read somewhere that sometimes a woman doesn't feel as attractive after having a baby, so maybe she's a little nervous about being with me.

I'd never admit it to anyone, but I was a little nervous about being alone with her after so long until she got here - now I'm wondering how long I can hold out before I give up on the romantic things that I'd planned, scoop her up and carry her to bed.

"Yes, I know that it means having a very late dinner, but I thought that, since we have the whole house to ourselves, you might want to take one of those long, hot baths that you like before we eat," I explain.

"I know that our children are at your parents' house, but where's your grandmother and Cocoa?" she asks.

"They're also at Mom's," I answer.

"I hope that they didn't take off because you're making meatless meatloaf and they wanted real food," she says, but I don't believe the teasing tone in her voice since the gleam in her eyes when she's teasing me isn't there.

Though I believe that she's trying to use humor to cover up the fact that she doesn't want to be alone with me, I'm trying to stay positive.

"No meatless meatloaf. Since vegetarian lasagna is a dish that you want to let set for a few minutes before you cut into it, I decided on that. I also chose it because the layers stay at a servable temperature for some time so that you can take as long a bath as you want and still have a warm dinner."

"The bath sounds wonderfully relaxing, but I need to pump milk and I want to put up some Christmas decorations. If I have time later, I'll take a bath before I go to bed."

"I have a couple of surprises for you." I take her hand. "Close your eyes and come with me."

She tilts her head and looks at me curiously, but closes her eyes and allows me to guide her into the living room.

**LIVING ROOM**

I stop and turn so that I can see Mac's reaction.

"Okay, open your eyes."

She does as instructed, and her eyes become wide. "How did you ...?" Her voice trails off, her question left unfinished.

"Basically, all I did was bring in a couple of boxes from the storage room in the garage marked as Christmas items and start the fire for effect when I showed you the room," I say, referring to the Christmas items such as the garland draped over the mantle, though it looks a little strange to have decorations around the room while the tree is completely bare of any type of adornment. "My grandmother did the decorating. She said to tell you that you've just been so busy that she wanted to help, but if you don't like where she put something, she won't be offended if you move it."

"The room looks perfect. I can't imagine wanting to move a thing," Mac says, still wide-eyed as she takes in the room.

"You might change your mind when you see the rest of what she did."

She looks at me. "What else did she do?"

"You saw the farmhouse at Christmas last year. She doesn't believe that Christmas is a one room holiday. She put those lamp coasters that she crochets under the lamp in the room that Tom will be in and she put a lamp and a candy dish on them in the guesthouse. She didn't have a table runner and some other things because we either don't own them or they weren't in the boxes that I found in the garage. So, to add what she called "finishing touches," she called my mother to bring over a few things from her Christmas decor collection."

She looks confused. "Why did she decorate the guesthouse? Tom is staying in the spare bedroom inside the house."

"I ... I..." I've opened my big mouth and I struggle to find something that I can say that won't blow her surprise, but the intense, scrutinizing gaze that I'm under at the moment causes me to tell her the whole truth. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but your Uncle Matt is driving over to see you for Christmas."

"When?" she asks excitedly.

"He's planning to be here some time Sunday evening. Please don't tell him that I spoiled his surprise."

She raises her right hand like she's taking an oath. "I promise that I won't rat you out," she says before lowering her hand. "This is a lovely surprise, but I do believe you said that you had surprises, plural, and if you weren't planning to tell me about my uncle, how many more are there and when do I get the next one?" she asks.

The sparkle in her warm brown eyes threatens to be my undoing, so I have to swallow down the urge to do more than answer her question.

"You should get more comfortable by pumping first. When you finish with that, take a couple of minutes to check out the decorations in the guesthouse and the other rooms while I prepare your next surprise. I'll meet you back here when you've finished your tour."

"Okay," she says before giving me a kiss on the cheek. "This was a very nice surprise. Thank you for helping with it."

My cheek is tingling where her lips just left their mark, and the tingling moves lower and lower as I watch her walk from the room.

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

"Your grandmother did a wonderful job with all of the decorations. The rooms look Christmasy without looking too cluttered or overdone," she says as she moves towards where I'm standing next to the couch.

"She's going to be thrilled that you like it," I say as I take her hand. "Are you ready for your next surprise?"

"I am."

"Close your eyes," I say and, once she has, I start to guide her out of the living room.

"By the way, they aren't called lamp coasters. They're called doilies, and by putting the lamps on them, the little red and green ruffles give the room a subtle Christmas color," she informs me as I guide her down the hallway to our bedroom.

"I'll keep that in mind," I say, thankful that we've reached the bedroom, because I really don't want to have a discussion about doilies with her ... and with lamps on them, they looked like lamp coasters to me, I think, as I lead her over to the master bathroom.

A moment later, we step into our bathroom, and I stop.

"Oh, Harm," she says, her voice cracking with emotion.

I turn around.

"Hey, no fair, I didn't tell you to open your eyes yet," I tease.

She looks up at me with those eyes.

"But you'll forgive me, won't you?" she purrs while batting her lashes.

I have to swallow down my desire to pull her to me and kiss her passionately.

"I will, if you'll just enjoy your bath."

"Harm..." she begins, but gets choked up and stops talking as she stares down at the tub filled with bubble bath and surrounded by lit candles.

"I'm going to the kitchen. Enjoy your bath and come to join me for dinner when you're ready," I say and turn to leave the room, but she catches my arm.

I stop, and she wraps her arms around my waist, giving me a hug.

She pulls back and looks up at me.

"This is so thoughtful, but we should have dinner and spend some time together before you have to go take over for Frank at the hospital."

"We have time to do both," I say before placing a kiss on top of her head and leaving the room, allowing her to disrobe and take her bath.

**DINING ROOM**

**SOME TIME LATER**

Mac came in for dinner wearing a silk robe, and the entire time that we've been sitting across from each other, supposedly to eat dinner, I haven't been able to keep my mind from wondering if she's wearing anything under her robe.

"Are you not hungry because your mind is at the hospital with Tyler?" she asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"No, he's with Frank. If there was something to know, Frank would call."

"Thinking about Mattie's visit?" she inquires.

"No, I'm looking forward to seeing her, but that isn't what I was thinking about either."

The room falls silent for several long moments.

"I read where some men are no longer interested in a woman once they've given birth to a child," she states out of the blue, breaking the silence before asking, "Do you still find me attractive?"

"Yes, why would you think otherwise? Do you remember that kiss at the hospital last week? I was afraid that Ty would notice how aroused I was when I went in to stay with him."

I'm defensive because I have no idea where this is coming from. The article that I read said that she might feel unattractive, but it didn't say anything about me losing interest. I need to start reading the same articles that she does so that I'm prepared for these things.

"I just thought that, if you still wanted me that way, since you and I have the house to ourselves for a few hours, we wouldn't be wasting time taking baths and eating dinner," she says with disappointment.

"I didn't think that you ... you just seemed so distant when you came in ..." I'm stumbling over an explanation.

"I thought that we'd be just passing in the night like when we switch at the hospital. I didn't know that we'd have time for more. I didn't want to get close because I knew that I'd want you and I didn't want to have to take a cold shower because you had to leave for the hospital," she explains.

She looks confused when a smile starts to spread across my face.

"You know another thing that I like about lasagna?"

She shakes her head, giving me a negative response.

"It reheats well," I say as I stand up.

I hold out my hand, hoping that she'll put her hand in mine.

"But you have to go..." she says, sounding sad and avoiding my gaze.

"I have one more surprise." She tilts her head up to look at me questioningly. "It's an early Christmas present for us. Frank doesn't want to see me at the hospital until morning."

She slips her hand in mine.

"You see, it isn't that I don't find you attractive or that I'm not interested. I just didn't want you to think that your body is all that I've been missing," I say as she steps into me. "I miss seeing your smile...hearing your voice..." That's all I get out before our lips come together.

The kiss is hot and intense.

"I've got a surprise for you, Sailor," she says breathlessly as she starts to lead me off in the direction of our bedroom. "I'm not wearing anything under this robe, so I'm going to be ready for bed before you are."

I release her hand.

"We'll see about that," I say as I start to shed my clothes, shirt first, as we make our way to our bed to make love in a much anticipated reunion made only better by knowing that, once we've satisfied our need, we'll be able to fall asleep in each other's arms.


	65. Chapter 65

**PART TWO **

**FRIDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2007**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME  
0400**

'What now?' Is what I wonder when I feel Mac shifting around, changing positions.

Emotionally weary from the events of the past two weeks and sated from our lovemaking, I fell asleep around midnight with her in my arms, her head resting on my chest.

A couple of hours later, I was awakened by Mac pulling from my embrace.

Apparently, she'd been startled awake by the memory that we'd left dinner out and had felt compelled to get up and put everything away before she could go back to sleep.

I understood her point, but under the circumstances, I was willing to toss out this one dinner to stay in bed. However, I gave in and got up to help her clean up, thinking that, if we did it together, it would take half as long and we could get back to bed that much sooner.

I'm glad that I didn't put up much of a fight before getting up to help because, when we got back into bed, she rewarded my helpfulness by initiating another session of lovemaking.

Now, she's moving around, but her weight hasn't left the bed. Instead, she's changed positions. I feel her pressing against my side with her hands resting on my chest.

She must be sitting up.

The eerie and unmistakable sensation that someone's watching me seeps into my state of semi-sleep, and I open my eyes to find that her hands that are resting on top of each other on my chest are serving as a resting place for her chin, and she's staring at me.

"Do you ever sleep?" I ask teasingly while staring into her eyes.

"I sleep so well when I sleep next to you that I don't need much of it to feel refreshed..." she purrs, pausing very briefly before adding excitedly, "...and with Mattie coming home today, who can sleep?"

Her enthusiasm for Mattie's homecoming for the holidays is rewarded with a sleepy smile from me.

"What time is it, anyway?" I ask.

A mischievous smile appears on her face before she asks, "Zulu, Eastern or Pacific?"

Giving her an eye roll, I reply, "This time zone will be fine ... show off."

"0402."

"Then I should get up and shower. I'm sure that Frank's back could use a break by now."

She lifts her chin slightly so that she can move her hands over my skin as she places one kiss and then another on my chest before purring, "Are you sure that you want to get out of bed this minute, Sailor?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind, Marine?"

"Let's just say that I hope you bought the economy size box of condoms because I think that we're going to need another one," she says with a girlish giggle between kisses that she's applying up my chest in a trail to my lips.

"So, are you saying that I'm good for more than just being your pillow?" I say jokingly.

The light banter that we're exchanging ends when she drops her body onto mine and hugs me tightly.

Her words come in heartfelt emotional bursts of soft whispers. "You're more than my pillow, more than my friend or lover. In your arms is the only place where I've ever really felt safe ... safe to be just Sarah ... where I can talk or cry without fear. In your arms, I regain my strength. You ..." I hear her voice crack with emotion.

"It's strange to hear you say that I give you strength, because I get my strength from you." I stop to take in a breath of courage before making a confession as to why I believe the opposite to be true. "In the beginning of Ty's illness, when things were at their worst, I was thinking about being with you like this to the point that I was feeling guilty. I spent days sitting next to him, wondering what kind of father thinks about that kind of thing when his son is so sick. Then one day I realized that it wasn't so much about making love to you as it was about the sense of peace and security that I feel when I'm with you - 'that everything will be okay' feeling - even if the circumstances at hand seem to indicate otherwise. So, you see, I get my strength from having you with me."

She looks up into my eyes, and I can see the glistening of tears threatening to spill over.

"So the more pain, hurt or fear that we're feeling, the closer we want to be ... we need to hold onto our lifeline ... each other," she says with understanding.

I place my palm on her cheek and rub the pad of my thumb along her cheekbone.

"We strengthen each other," she adds softly, leaning into my touch.

"I love you," I say before gently easing her head to mine so that our lips touch for a tender kiss.

Our lips part, and she whispers, "And I love you." Then she places her mouth on mine in a much more passionate kiss.

When our lips part this time, I pull her to me, tucking my face into the crook of her neck. After placing a kiss on her neck, I whisper in her ear, "I think that Frank can wait a little while longer." Then I nibble on her ear lobe, eliciting a low moan from her.

**TY'S ROOM**

**PEDIATRIC WARD**

**BALBOA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**1536**

Tyler has been improving every day and, even though he tires easily and needs to nap occasionally, he spends much of his day moving around the ward.

Frank was apologetic when I arrived this morning to take over for him because he hadn't called with the news, but he said that Tyler had made him promise that he wouldn't tell me so that Ty could surprise me with it when I got here.

The news is that Tyler's latest blood test results came in, and the numbers were good enough to move him one big step closer to getting out of the hospital.

After I heard that, I was going to call Mac, but Ty asked me to let him surprise his mom with the news when she comes later today with Mattie.

I believe that Mac will understand the way I did how much telling her means to him, so I agree not to call her.

Ty's excitement about sharing his news and Mattie coming today didn't fade, but in his weakened condition, he couldn't stay awake without a nap. He drifted off about thirty minutes after lunch, and I've been sitting at his bedside, watching him sleep peacefully since then.

I decide against going for a cup of coffee to stretch my legs. I don't like to leave his side while he's sleeping. Besides, I rationalize, Mac will be here soon with Mattie, and I don't want to miss her arrival.

I lean back and close my eyes. Maybe I'll try to take a nap while I wait for Tyler to either wake up and keep me company or for Mac to arrive with Mattie.

It took me a few minutes to relax and, when I was close to being asleep, I heard Ty whisper, "Dad, are you asleep?"

He was rested and wanted to play a card game.

**1700**

Having yawned frequently since Ty woke up about an hour ago, I decide that I'm in need of some coffee.

With Ty settled in the recreation area, watching a movie with two of the other children, I check with him to see if he's okay with me stepping out of the ward, perhaps even the building to stretch my legs, get some coffee and call Mac to see if Mattie's arrived safely.

After making me promise not to tell Mac his news when I call her, Ty says that he'll be fine, and I leave the ward.

I was disappointed that the Starbucks kiosk had closed at 1630, so I missed getting a great cup of coffee, but walking in the fresh air helped to clear my head, and I feel less groggy.

Since Mac didn't answer her cellphone either time that I called her in the last ten minutes and she left no message in my voice mail to explain her delay, I'm feeling some anxiety. The anxiousness giving me a rush of adrenaline, making coffee no longer necessary, I set out to return to the ward to sit with Ty, wondering where Mac is.

**PEDIATRIC WARD **

**1715**

I enter the ward and make my way over to the area where I left Ty, but he isn't there.

Knowing that he probably just got tired, I automatically head for his room.

When I arrive at the door to his room, I see that Mac and Mattie have arrived.

"If you were close enough to the hospital to have your phone off, I don't know how I could have missed seeing the two of you," I say as I enter the room.

"Harm!" Mattie says, making her way over to meet me.

"How have you been, kid?" I ask her as we embrace.

"I'm better now that I'm here," she replies as she breaks our brief hug.

"She told me that I'm not allowed to scare my big sister like this ever again," Ty pipes up, getting into the conversation.

"I'll second that! We don't want you to scare us like this ever again, either," Mac adds.

"Hey, Ty, did Momma notice anything different about you this evening?" I ask.

"Yes, I noticed that his IV is out. He told me that they took it out yesterday after I left and that he gets to take his antibiotic in pill form now," Mac replies.

"Did you tell her the best part?" I ask.

Ty shakes his head. "No, I was waiting for you."

"What's the best part?" Mac asks with excited curiosity.

"I'm definitely going to be home for Christmas," Ty says, matching her level of excitement.

"The doctor said that his release could happen as early as tomorrow, maybe Sunday, but he'll definitely be home for Christmas," I tell Mac and Mattie.

"I told the doctor that I wanted to get out tomorrow because that way I'd be home for Momma's French toast on Sunday morning..." Ty says happily. "...and Gee Gee said that she'd make cinnamon rolls when I got home," he adds.

"His appetite's back," I say with a chuckle.

"Always a good sign," Mac comments as she gives Ty a big hug.

Mac releases her hold on Ty before saying, "Whether it's tomorrow or Sunday, if you want French toast, we'll have French toast when you get home."

Her voice is cracking with emotion, and though I'm sure that she's happy about the news, I slip an arm around her for support.

She responds to my arm around her by placing her hand over mine that I have resting on her hip.

"My brother and I have a lot to talk about. Why don't you two go for a walk?" Mattie suggests.

Mac looks up at me. "I think that we're being dismissed so that they can talk about us."

"I believe you're correct," I respond with a laugh.

We get an odd look from Mattie, but Ty looks excited at the prospect of having some time with his big sister, so, after Mac and I have each given Ty a hug and affirm that we'll be back in a little while, we leave the two of them to have their brother/sister talk.

**BUILDING TWO**

**INSIDE ELEVATOR **

Mac and I step onto the elevator, hand in hand, but it isn't until the doors close with only the two of us on board that I feel that we have the privacy to talk freely.

"I expected you here earlier. Was their flight delayed?"

"There wasn't a delay at the airport. I just found it hard to leave your grandmother with the responsibility of our children and Tom. You told me that Mattie said that he was doing okay, but he looks worse...a lot worse to me."

"Then how long should we give Mattie and Ty before we go back up?"

"Thirty minutes, tops," Mac replies.

"You're the timekeeper. You let me know when time's up, and we'll head back up there."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**2300**

As a couple, Mac and I needed last night, but the memory of our reunion is bittersweet tonight since she isn't here with me, making it very difficult for me to fall asleep. Consequently, that's allowed my mind to drift to a few of the events of this evening.

I left Mac at the hospital for the night shift and brought Mattie home with me.

Mattie and I talked in the car about school, Ty and Christmas, but I avoided mentioning Tom's health and the observation that Mac had made, and Mattie didn't bring up the topic either.

When we got home, the news that Ty might be home as early as tomorrow had everyone excited, and Abigail had wanted to know if he'd be able to come to her piano recital tomorrow night. Unfortunately, I couldn't give her a definite answer, but I told her that I'd ask his doctor if it would be all right if, in fact, Ty is released tomorrow and if he feels up to going.

After greeting me and getting the good news about their brother, the girls' attention turned to their big sister.

Mattie took on her position as big sister with vigor, not only entertaining the girls for most of the evening, but even going so far as to help with their bath and bedtime routine, which gave Tom and me some time to talk.

During my conversation with Tom, he broached the subject of his health. He said that he wasn't well, but doing better than the doctors had thought that he'd be doing. However, he also confided that he hadn't told Mattie, but that the doctors had told him that, even though he was doing better than they'd expected, they didn't think that he had more than six months left to live.

After telling me about his health, much of the rest of our discussion revolved around him telling Mattie...or not. We did agree that, whether he told her, which I suggested, or didn't, his opinion, he shouldn't tell her during the holidays, allowing her to share in the joys of Christmas with all of her family together without the stark realization that this will probably be the last Christmas that he'll be with her.

My eyelids are finally heavy enough that I think that sleep is close, so I pull Mac's pillow to me, hugging it closely and allowing her scent to fill my nostrils, trying to fool my tired senses into believing that she's here so that I can enter a state of deep, peaceful sleep.

**SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2007**

**GRANT EVENT HALL**

**1512**

It seems like a very long walk from the parking lot to the small building.

I wonder if my perception of the distance is warped because I'm carrying Tyler.

Surely I'm not that out of shape after only a couple of weeks of putting my exercise routine on the back burner to take care of my family - maybe it's that I'm rushing because I know that I'm late.

I don't know if its vanity or the beginnings of a macho side of him, but Ty has a request as we approach the entrance to the hall.

"Dad, can you put me down so I can walk in? Please," he adds to his request.

Yes, he's eight - 'almost nine,' he'd say - and capable of walking, but he just got out of the hospital - literally. The doctor had waited on blood test results before issuing a discharge order for Ty. When his discharge became official, it was 1447. With Abigail's recital scheduled to start at 1500, we immediately left the hospital for the recital hall.

I fight my initial reaction to say no.

"Sure, but only in and out of the building. I'm going to carry you back to the car, too, because I don't want you to get too tired," I reply to his request, and I'm rewarded with a pleased smile.

Ty's hand in mine, we walk into the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible and hoping that, with several young pianists scheduled to perform, we haven't missed Abigail's performance.

Though I'm sure that there are others, I see a few heads turn to observe the parent or guest who's arrived late.

Mac is among those I see turning to look at me, but instead of the glare that I'm sure that I'm getting from the parents of the boy who's at the piano at the moment, Mac has a smile for us before turning around and sliding over a seat to give me the seat on the aisle.

We make our way to the correct row, and Mac takes Ty's hand and guides him around her to take the seat on the other side of her as I slip down into the vacated chair as quickly as I can, trying to keep our interruption to a minimum.

**A FEW MOMENTS LATER**

The young man concludes his performance, and the audience applauds until Abigail's piano teacher steps up to introduce the next performer.

"Please welcome our next pianist, Abigail Rabb."

Abigail then comes out from behind the curtain.

I'm filled with pride as I see my picture-perfect little girl.

Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail tied with a red ribbon, and her dress is white on top with a red ruffled skirt. As she walks across the stage to stand by her teacher, her shiny black patent leather shoes gleam in the stage lights.

Abigail's teacher motions for Abigail to take a seat at the piano, but she doesn't move from her spot. She just stands there and stares out into the audience.

"Abigail is a new student of mine. She's never played in front of an audience before, so let's give her a minute," the teacher says before bending over and speaking quietly to Abigail.

Concern that Abigail won't be able to overcome her shyness to perform starts to take hold of me.

I start to get up to tell her that she doesn't have to play, but when Abigail sees me, she smiles and waves at me before she moves to sit down on the piano bench.

I wave back to let her know that I see her, too, as I ease back down into my chair to listen to my daughter play the two songs that she's been practicing at home.

I've just settled back into the chair when Mac leans over and whispers into my ear, "She didn't want to play until her daddy was here to hear it."

I glance at Mac and give her a half-grin before turning back to focus on my little girl just a moment before the music begins to fill the room.

A few bars into the song, I'm thinking, 'I may be just a proud dad, but she plays beautifully.'

As I listen to every note as she plays through both songs without even one mistake, I wonder how I came to be so lucky to have a daughter who's so talented.

When she completes her second song, I applaud enthusiastically until she's left the stage. Then I lean over and whisper to Mac, "I wish I would've thought to bring her flowers to give her at the end of her performance."

Mac gives me an odd look, which I take to mean that she doesn't relate the flowers to the occasion.

"In a 'Live from Lincoln Center' special on PBS once, I saw them give Beverly Sills flowers at the end of her performance," I explain.

The smile across her face tells me that I misread her earlier expression. She wasn't confused. She was amused by my prideful reaction to my daughter's performance.

Counting the boy who was at the piano when I arrived, I've watched five children play before the teacher appears, not to announce the next performer, but to ask all of the children who performed today to join her on the stage.

The children come from behind the curtain and line up on either side of her.

"That concludes our program. I think the children all did a wonderful job."

Her comment results in the audience giving the children another round of applause, while the children take what I suspect is a rehearsed bow on stage.

"Thank you all for coming and have a safe and Merry Christmas," she says after the applause has died down.

It takes only a few moments for Abigail to make her way from the stage to us.

"Harm, you weren't here when I had to go backstage. I didn't think that you were coming," Abigail says.

I bend down to her level. "I'm sorry that I was late, but I was with your brother. I wanted to be here earlier to wish you luck…but you didn't need it. You did a wonderful job. I'm very proud of you," I say with a big smile.

"You liked the recital?" Abigail asks me.

"I sure did." I lean in closer to her. "I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I enjoyed your performance the most. I thought you played beautifully."

She smiles at my compliment, and not just any old smile, but a happy, 'feel good' smile that lights up the room.

Overtaken by the moment, I don't wait for her to make a move before I wrap my arms around her, giving her a loving hug.

She doesn't pull away. Instead, she reacts by wrapping her arms around my neck and reciprocating my show of affection.

I think that Mac could be right. I might be winning her over.

"I thought you played pretty, too," Ty says from bedside me.

"We all do," Mac says as Abigail pulls from my embrace to greet her brother before all the other family members get their turn to praise Abigail's performance.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2205**

"I fed Matthew and stayed with him until he was asleep," Mac says, entering the bedroom. "I checked on the other children, too. Everyone is asleep."

"Everyone but us ... however, we could change that," I say, closing the book that I was reading.

"We could?" She responds in question form while I'm putting my book on my bedside table.

"Yes, you could slip into this bed..." I say while lifting up and turning back the comforter on her side. "...and we could snuggle up and fall asleep together."

"Together," she says, raising an eyebrow as she unties her robe.

"Yes, just you and me, what do you say?"

"I'd love to," she says as she sheds her robe.

Then she slips into bed while I move to turn off my bedside lamp.

Once I've settled back against the mattress and my pillow, she snuggles against me, her head resting on my chest.

"This is nice," she says softly.

"Yes, it is. You know, I was starting to wonder if things would ever get back to normal around here."

"But now our son is home, he's doing well -"

"- and we're in our bed...together," I say, cutting her off, but finishing her thought.

"Yes, together," she says, her words muffled by a yawn.

"Thursday night was wonderful, but I've missed just being with you like this, too," I admit.

"Me, too," she says in a sleepy voice.

"Good night, Mac."

"Good night, Harm."


	66. Chapter 66

**PART THREE **

**MONDAY, DECEMBER 24, 2007**

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**0515**

**HARM'S POV**

Though I'm dressed and ready to leave for a morning run, I thought that I'd go to the kitchen on my way out to start a pot of coffee.

"Good morning, Harm," my grandmother says, momentarily taking her eyes off what she's doing at the counter to greet me cheerfully before turning her attention back to her work. "What has you up so early this morning?"

"Good morning, Grandma. I'm headed out for a short run, trying to slowly get back into the swing of things. I was going to start the coffee maker on my way out, but I see that you beat me to it. I'll bet that I can guess what you're making that has you up so early."

"I'm sure you know that I'm making cinnamon rolls because you know very well that I promised Ty that I'd make them for him when he got out of the hospital. Since yesterday was Sarah's French toast day and Frank is coming over tomorrow to make his Christmas morning pancakes, today is the day for Gee Gee's cinnamon rolls," she says with a smile.

"Where's Cocoa?" I ask curiously, realizing that my hand hasn't once been given a gentle nudge by a cold wet nose to get my attention to be petted since I entered the kitchen.

"She's in with Ty. She's been sleeping in there with him since he came home from the hospital."

"The two of them do seem to have bonded last year. Of course, I've seen Cocoa playing with the girls, too."

"Yes, she's really loving all the attention that she gets around here," my grandmother says.

"I think it goes both ways. I think that they like having a dog around to give attention to," I respond.

"Since we agree that the children enjoy having Cocoa around, have you thought about getting them a puppy for Christmas?" she asks casually while wiping her hands on her apron.

"Mac and I discussed getting them a dog, but have agreed that it would be best to wait until we find out where I'll be stationed next because, if I should be stationed overseas again, there could be a long quarantine period for the dog. That doesn't seem fair to the children, who would have had the dog for only a few months, or the dog, who would have to be held in kennel conditions while it's determined if the dog is healthy enough to be let into the country."

"I think that's sound reasoning, but I have something else in mind," she says, pouring two mugs of coffee. "I know that this is last minute, but given recent events, it's been the first time that I've had a real chance to bring it up. Let's sit down and I'll tell you my idea," she says while moving to the little table in the kitchen with the two mugs of coffee. "You can think over the idea while you run, talk it over with Sarah and let me know what the two of you decide," she says before sitting down and looking up at me, waiting for me to join her to hear her idea.

**NURSERY **

**0629**

I returned from my run and headed to our bedroom to take a shower, but the soft cries of my baby boy had me stopping in the nursery to see if I could soothe him.

Once I get him into a dry diaper, he's calmer, but at this hour of the morning, it'll also take breakfast before he's happy again.

Since Mac and I have been trying to get back into our routines, both personal and family ones since Ty came home on Saturday, and since morning feedings belonged to Mac before the interruption of our schedules, I decide to take Matthew to Mac, though, if she wants to sleep in, I'd be happy to feed him.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**0639**

I slowly turn the doorknob to our bedroom and quietly push open the door.

If Mac's still asleep, I don't want to wake her, but when I open the door, I see that she's awake and leaning back on pillows propped up against the headboard.

"I heard him crying and was getting up when I heard you start to talk to him, so I thought that I'd just wait here for you."

"Don't you mean that you were making sure that I had plenty of time to get him into a clean diaper?" I tease.

"Yes, but my way sounded so much nicer, don't you think?" she responds with a smile.

"It did, but what if I'd decided to let you sleep and fed our hungry baby boy myself? Did you think of that when you were trying to get out of diaper duty?"

"Since you're all sweaty from your run…and you wouldn't want to make our hungry baby wait until you got out of the shower, I was feeling pretty confident that I'd get to feed him this morning." She's pauses for a fraction of a second before adding, "Now give me my baby so that he can eat while you shower."

"Your momma is being pretty bossy this morning, isn't she?" I ask Matthew as I lower him into his mother's waiting arms.

"Tell Daddy that he hasn't seen anything yet. Tomorrow is Christmas day, and there are still lots of things to be done, so he'd better be ready to take a lot of orders today," she says to Matthew as he turns his head, nuzzling her breast.

"Yes, we both have things to do to be ready for Christmas, and my grandmother gave us one more thing to do."

"What does she need for us to do?" she asks, getting Matthew settled in at her breast.

"We need to decide if we want to accept the gift that she wants to give the children."

"What does she want to give them?" she asks, frowning.

"A dog."

"Did you tell her that we'd talked about getting them a dog, but had decided to wait until we know where you're going to be stationed next?"

"I did, but she told me that she wasn't asking to give them just any dog. She wants to give them Cocoa."

"Why would she want to give away her dog?" she asks. Her surprise at this turn of events is evident.

"She said that it's as much for Cocoa as it is for the children. Cocoa is only three years old and has a lot of energy. Here, she has children to play with her and, between the three of them, she gets almost constant attention. I certainly couldn't deny that the kids love having Cocoa here, too. She also said that she'd like to get away from the farm every once in a while and she'd be able to travel more freely if Cocoa were living with us. In response to our concern about getting an overseas assignment, she said that she understood that, and if we didn't want to subject Cocoa to a long period of quarantine, she'd be happy to keep her for us at the farm. She also apologized for it being on such short notice and said that, if we couldn't make a decision by Christmas, it would be okay, but if we decide to keep Cocoa at any time before she leaves to go back home, she'd still like to give Cocoa to the children as a gift," I say, summing up the conversation that I had with my grandmother this morning.

"I don't know what to say. What do you think?"

"I was giving it some thought while I was on my run. There are certainly some good points about taking Cocoa instead of getting a dog later. She's house broken. She's well behaved. We know what kind of temperament she has and how she is around small children. We can't guarantee that a dog that we get later will have the right temperament to be around so many young children."

"That's true. Did you see how Cocoa stuck next to Ty last night while we were decorating the tree? She stays pretty close to him anytime he's up moving around. I think that she senses that he isn't back to full strength yet and she wants to make sure that he gets to where he's going okay."

"That's one of the things that you could put in both the pro and con column." Mac looks at me with a puzzled expression. "Cocoa and Ty have a bond, pro. However, the con is that the girls don't. Is that fair to the girls if she's supposed to be a family pet?" I say in explanation.

"I've seen Sami with Cocoa and I've even seen Abigail petting her. I forgot the baby monitor when I left the living room to make the girls a snack, and it was Cocoa that came in to get me when she heard Matthew crying. So, I don't believe that she's a one child dog...and, with your grandmother staying here for another couple of months, I'm sure that the girls will have bonded with her by then as well."

"Are you saying that you want us to accept the gift?" I ask.

"It certainly is a gift from her heart, and I think that it might hurt her feelings if we don't accept."

"It might," I say, still unsure that I want to let my grandmother give away her dog.

"You said that we didn't have to decide by tomorrow, and the smell of cinnamon filling the air tells me that the cinnamon rolls are in the oven, so you'd better get that shower so that we aren't late for breakfast," Mac suggests.

A few moments later, I'm stepping into the bathroom without us having reached a decision on the matter.

**DINING ROOM**

**DINNER TIME**

With Ty's stay in the hospital, I had some very last minute Christmas shopping to do, and Mac ventured off to buy gifts for her Uncle Matt and some little something for Tom to open on Christmas morning.

Mac's day also included a stop at the grocery store. She was missing a few ingredients for her cookie baking tradition with Mattie this evening.

The list of what we've accomplished so far today doesn't effectively communicate the amount of chaos around here.

Because Ty has been taking a mid-day nap since his release from the hospital as well as Sami, it was difficult for Mac and me to schedule time to be with our children while accomplishing the things on our to-do lists and still make accommodations for nap time.

I slip into my seat at the table, grateful that I'm home, out of the traffic and away from the crowd of last minute Christmas shoppers at the mall. Though there are still activities planned like going to church, we've made it through the most stressful part of the day.

The flurry of my wife, mother and grandmother scurrying between the dining room and kitchen ceases when the last of them slips into her seat.

The room falls silent so that grace can be said. It's then that everyone joins hands and bows their heads for the prayer.

All of my stress from the last minute Christmas preparations are forgotten when Abigail slips her hand into mine.

**LIVING ROOM**

**AFTER DINNER**

Last year, we were at the farm and we didn't transport the stocking holders that my mother had given Mac, Mattie and me the previous year in London. So this year will be the first year that Ty, as well as the girls, will put stocking holders on the mantle and hang their stockings before we go to the Christmas Eve church service.

It isn't until we've all gathered in the living room, our stomachs full from a wonderful meal, that I realize that Mac and I haven't discussed in what order we should let the children put up their stockings.

Before I've had a chance to pull Mac aside to discuss it with her, I discover that Mac already has a plan in mind as she reaches into one of the two boxes sitting on the hearth and pulls out one of the two F-4 stocking holders before returning to a completely upright position and turning to me.

"Your mother told me how to tell the two of them apart," she says, showing me a mark on the bottom. "This one was your father's and now it's yours. It should go on the mantle first."

I take the stocking holder from her as if it were some kind of precious artifact from a long lost civilization and place it on the mantle a few inches from the edge on the left, making room for the others to come.

"Since it's tradition that the F-4's stay side by side, Mattie, you're next," Mac says, pulling the other F-4 from the storage box."

Mattie takes the holder from Mac, but doesn't move to place it on the mantle. Instead, she turns to face the roomful of family.

"The one that Harm put on the mantle used to be his father's and this matching one was Harm's. So, since I'm not really a Rabb, I think that this should be given to Harm's son. If it's okay with everyone, I'd like to give this to Tyler."

Everyone looks to me for my approval.

"What do you say, Buddy? You okay with having a holder that matches your dad's?"

"Don't you want to give it to Matthew?" Ty asks hesitantly.

"If Mattie is passing it down, I think it rightfully belongs to my first son, which would be you," I reply.

Tyler smiles brightly at me before getting off the couch, stopping first to give me a hug before taking his stocking holder from Mattie.

As he as moves towards Mattie, Mac has something to say.

"I think that Mattie giving you the F-4 is a wonderful gift from her heart, but she's part of this family, too, so, I have an idea, Ty."

Tyler has reached where she and Mattie are standing, and Mac bends down and whispers into Ty's ear.

I don't know what she says, but her words get an excited nod of agreement from him before they turn to the rest of us, ready to make their announcement.

"In honor of Ty being the first Rabb son, Mattie has given the F-4 holder that was once Harm's to him, but to honor Mattie's position in our family as big sister, Ty would like to give up the spot where it usually sits next to his dad's and allow Mattie to place hers there."

Mac turns and bends down to pull a stocking holder out of the second box on the hearth. She pulls out the one that she told me that she'd bought on eBay around Christmas last year for Tyler – a Stearman that looks like mine.

Mattie passes the F-4 to Ty, takes the Stearman and places it next to my F-4 and then makes sure that Ty can manage to put his F- 4 on the mantle without assistance before she gives me a hug. Then I get another hug from Ty before they both sit down on the couch.

The three planes lined up, it's time to switch from the aviator theme to Mac's Christmas scene, but, to my surprise, Mac doesn't put hers up next. Instead, she reaches back into the new box and pulls out another holder – Disney's Cinderella.

"Abigail..." Mac announces. "...I know that Cinderella is one of your favorite stories, so when I saw this holder, I knew that this was the one for our princess."

I lift Abigail up by the waist from behind to give her the needed height to reach the mantle, and Mac assists her in placing the holder next to Ty's.

"Thank you, Momma," Abigail says, looking at her holder on the mantle.

"You're welcome, Princess," Mac replies as she embraces Abigail, and the two hug.

I lower Abigail down to a spot on the hearth next to the storage boxes, and she turns around, but doesn't step off the hearth.

"Thank you, too, Da -" She catches herself and stops before completing the word, but she lifts her arms as a sign that I've come to know is her way of saying that she'd like a hug.

"I wish that she hadn't stopped herself. Having her call me daddy would be the best gift next to having Ty home that I could ever imagine getting in my life."

Abigail's almost slip of the word daddy doesn't go unnoticed by Mac, and she reaches out and rubs my arm as Abigail and I hug.

The tender moment between us is broken when Sami asks impatiently, "Do I get turn, too?"

"Yes, you do," Mac says as I set Abigail down on the floor this time so that she can move to the couch, giving her sister center stage.

Sami needs no further prompting, aside from knowing that it's her turn, to jump off her grandpa's lap and make her way to where Mac and I are standing in front of the fireplace.

Unlike with Abigail, Sami and I have an easy flowing relationship of affection that allows me to pick her up without thought, while Mac reaches into the box for the fifth time.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't find one that had a big ladybug on it, but I hope that you'll like this one," Mac says as she lifts Sami's holder out of the box and into view.

I turn so that Sami can feel that she's assisting Mac in placing her holder on the mantle, but she's three, and staring at the picture frame with her picture in it and her name "Samantha" engraved across the top on which Mac has hand-painted ladybugs isn't enough. She has to touch it. Luckily, her "helping" doesn't result in a mishap.

"I like it," Sami says as she hugs my neck before leaning over from my arms to give Mac a hug.

"I know that Matthew isn't old enough to really need a stocking yet, but he is with us this year, so I thought that he should have his spot marked for when he's older. I bought this to stand in his place," she says, lifting a porcelain figurine of a mother holding a baby in a nursery scene. She turns it around and winds it up. "It can be in his room when Christmas is over," she says as Brahms lullaby starts to play from the music box hidden within the figurine. She then places it on the mantle to stand in for Matthew's stocking holder.

"Matthew needs a stocking, too. Santa might bring him something, and he won't get it 'cuz he doesn't have one," Sami protests.

I'll bet that, if Santa has something to give him, he'll find a way to leave it for him," Frank reassures her as he picks her up to place her back on his lap.

"Are you sure, Grandpa?" Sami asks.

Frank confirms his answer with, "Yes, I'm sure."

Distracted by Sami for a moment, but back on track now, Mac reaches down into the box and pulls out the last stocking holder, hers, and places it on the mantle at the opposite end from mine.

As Mac and I gather the children and place them between the tree and fireplace for a family photo, I understand the reason for Mac not placing her holder after Ty's. She's put the children together between us instead of having part of their holders between ours and the rest to the side. She's symbolically showing that none of them are more loved or important to us than any of the others, and by having Mattie place hers before Ty's, they're lined up in descending age, giving a logical order that shows no favoritism.

With stockings hung and a family picture taken, it's time to go to church for the Christmas Eve service.

**AFTER CHURCH**

Since Ty's been out of the hospital for only a couple of days, his energy level isn't back to normal yet, and he fell asleep in the car on the way home from church.

After we'd arrived home, I was carrying Ty to his room to put him to bed when Mattie caught up to me and asked me to meet her in the den when I was finished.

**DEN**

I enter the den to find Mattie staring off into space, a blank look on her face.

"Are you okay?"

Her face showing signs that she's back from wherever her mind has been, she says, "I don't know." Then she gets up and moves to me, wrapping her arms around my waist much the way she did when Mac brought her to me at The Wall on Christmas Eve - fours years ago.

"You want to talk about it?" I ask as I wrap my arms around her to give her a hug.

She pulls away and looks up at me.

"Not really anything to talk about. I was just setting up a surprise that we've been working on for you..." She points over towards the desk, and I see that my laptop has been set up. "...and it made me wonder how I'll feel when my dad isn't ..." She turns her face away. "He's doing okay right now, but it gets bad, Harm. He hasn't said anything, but I know that he isn't going to make it until this time next year," she says, her voice cracking, and I know that she's crying. That's why she turned around. She didn't want me to see her cry.

I step over to her and embrace her once again. "He's been sick for a long time. He might not be here next year, but we will be. No one knows better than me that having another dad doesn't make you miss your father any less, but remember that you have me. You also need to remember that, when you lose him, all those people around the dinner table tonight love you and think of you as my daughter. So, even though your last name isn't Rabb, you have more family than just your father, and we'll be there for you. We all love you, and you won't have to go through it alone."

She pulls back and looks up at me again. The tears have stopped flowing, but their tracks are visible.

"Can you promise that you and Mac will always be my family?" she asks.

"I can without a doubt promise that you're stuck with me, Mac, my parents, my grandmother, Ty ... do I have to finish the list or do you get the idea?"

"I get the idea. I have a big family for support when I need them."

"Yes, you do ... and I can tell you from experience that it takes some getting used to, but it's actually pretty nice to know that you have people around who care about you. Sometimes knowing that they're there is enough to bring you comfort. Sometimes, you need more, like someone to sit with three of your children at home while you're at the hospital with your son. Sometimes, you need something between those two extremes."

"Like someone to talk to about something that you can't or aren't ready to talk to your father about?" she says like a question.

"Yes. Is what's on your mind something that you can talk to me about, or should I get Mac or someone else?"

"No, you'll do fine. I've been thinking about..." She stops to take a deep breath. "...taking next semester off from school to spend time with my dad before he gets too sick."

"I can see why you'd want to do that." It's my turn to take a deep breath as a way to stall as I try to decide which way I want to continue, as a father figure or her friend.

As a father, I want to tell her that she can't put her life on hold to sit around and watch her dad die. As her friend, I'm more likely to agree to her taking a break from school so that she can spend time with him.

"But?" Mattie asks.

I've let my silence linger for too long in the room.

"No buts, I was just thinking over the pros and cons of you taking off a semester."

"Was it that, or were you trying to find a nice way to tell me that you don't want me to do it?"

"Maybe both," I admit before explaining. "Mattie..." I realize that I sounded like I was scolding her when I said her name, so I soften my tone as I continue. "Look, I regret that I didn't get to see my father one last time ... to do something with him so that I'd have one more good memory, or at the very least so that I could say goodbye to him. So I understand why you want to take time off from school to spend time with your dad, but I don't think that putting your life on hold, even if only for a semester, is the right thing either. So let's sit down and talk about it."

"I was just supposed to set up your laptop and cue up the video for you in here. They're waiting for me to make cookies and decorate the gingerbread men that Gee Gee baked yesterday, so we should talk later."

"They'll wait a few more minutes while we talk ... about the pros and cons." I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure that, after we discuss them, you'll need time to think it over. You may even have questions for Mac and Gee Gee while you're baking before you're ready to make a decision."

"What if, after we've talked, I still want to take the time off? Are you going to be mad at me?"

"Knowing that you've made an informed decision, I'll support whatever you decide about school," I say reassuringly as I move to sit down on the couch for our talk.

**DEN **

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER **

I have tears in my eyes as I watch the credits roll on the video that Mattie cued up for me after our talk.

I'd thought that, given the fact that they'd arranged for the filming of a video at The Wall for our first Christmas together as a family two years ago in London, it would be the same video or a variation of that one, but I was wrong. There was something much more personal in this one than just a short video of my father's name on The Wall. This video was a combination of moving pictures and still shots - a collage of my whole life.

The credits end, and I click the play arrow again.

The opening shot is a still photo of me with my father, the smaller version of which I still carry in my wallet. As the screen changes to the next picture, this time I notice that the 'movie' is set to music, to which I hadn't paid attention the first time that I'd watched it.

Among the photos of my father and me are pictures of my father with the Stearman, pictures of me with the same plane and ones with Mattie standing next to "Sarah."

Along with photos, there are snippets of old home movies of me and my father. The one that particularly grips my heart is the piece taken from the Christmas of '68, the year before he was shot down.

There's a wedding picture of Mac and me, followed by video of us dancing at our reception. That footage is followed by video clips of our Christmas in London and our Christmas last year at the farm.

Before the video comes to the final moments, I notice that all of my children have been included, even Matthew, in a combination of video recordings and photos.

It's the final moments of the video that bring tears to my eyes.

The song ends, and my father's voice comes from the speakers. The first time through, I'd wondered where she'd gotten the recording of his voice, but I realize as I prepare to hear his words again that they're from the tapes that he'd sent to Mom and me from the Tico.

"Whether I'm home or not, I'm always with you. I love you, son," my father says as the screen shows a photo of Mac and me with all the kids taken before Ty got sick.

Then the screen changes to words: Gone, but not forgotten.

After the words are displayed for a few seconds, a video of Mattie at the Vietnam Memorial begins to play, showing her placing our family photo and a red rose at the base of the section of the wall that displays my father's name.

Mattie steps out of the shot, and the camera zooms in on my father's name and stays there for a moment before the credits start to roll.

The credits thank my mother, grandmother and Mac for providing the video content and photos. Mattie is listed as director and producer, and Mattie's friend, Kevin, is listed as cameraman and editor.

I take a moment to compose myself before leaving the den.

**KITCHEN**

**AROUND 2130**

I was going into the kitchen to thank Mac, my grandmother and Mattie for the video, but something in the living room caught my eye as I passed through on the way to the kitchen that changed my mission.

When I finally get to the kitchen, I'm a little surprised to see that Abigail is still up, but she looks like she's having a good time decorating gingerbread men at the counter with my grandmother, so I quickly decide that Mac probably didn't want to spoil her good time.

"Do you know where Sami is?" I'm asking Mac, but without directing my question to her specifically, I get answers from all three of the ladies.

"She was bored with decorating cookies," my grandmother states.

"She was with Cocoa a little while ago," Mattie adds.

"She wanted to look at the Christmas lights on the tree and asked me to turn them on for her, but I haven't seen her for a few minutes. Why do you ask?" Mac says.

"Come with me, and I'll show you."

"Listen for the timer, Mattie. I'll be right back." I hear Mac say as I turn to leave, Mac following just a few steps behind me.

**LIVING ROOM**

The room is dark expect for the twinkling lights on the tree, so it takes a moment for Mac's eyes to adjust to the lighting, but I know the minute that she sees what I'm pointing to because she sighs.

I don't know if it's relief because she thought that Sami was in some kind of trouble or if her sigh is in response to the sweet vision in front of us.

Sami has fallen asleep on the floor near the tree, and Cocoa is serving as her pillow and keeping a watchful eye on her.

"Harm, about your grandmother's idea concerning Cocoa..." she whispers "...I wasn't sure before, but now, I'd have to say yes."

"I'm going to take Sami to bed," I whisper back. "Since Abigail is still up, we should wait until after she goes to bed to tell my grandmother. That way, all the kids will be surprised by her gift."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2300**

"It's been a long day," I say as I pull back the comforter in preparation for getting into bed.

"Yes, but being busy with shopping, baking cookies and last minute gift wrapping isn't like work. It's just part of the joys of Christmas," Mac says with a warm smile as she slips into bed.

"Aren't you tired?" I ask as I slip in beside her.

"I'm excited. Tomorrow is Christmas," she says giddily as she rolls onto her side to cuddle up to me.

Her bright smile disappears.

"I'm sorry, Harm. I know that Christmastime, especially Christmas Eve doesn't have fond memories for you," she says before applying a gentle kiss to my lips. "I should be more sensitive to how you feel about this holiday."

"Did Mattie show you the video that she made that I watched tonight?" I ask while I wrap my arm around her, bringing her in close to me.

"Yes. She wanted to see what your grandmother, mother and I all thought of it before she showed it to you." She pauses before asking hesitantly, "Did it upset you?"

"It did at first because it made me miss him, but when I watched it a second time ... I actually felt better ... not better than the first time I watched it, but better than I was before I'd watched it at all. I know that probably doesn't make sense to you -"

"You see ... that's always been your problem. You want feelings to make sense, be logical, and they just aren't. You feel the way you feel."

"And you fall in love with who you fall in love with, no matter how illogical it might be," I state, allowing her time to respond with "exactly" before I press my lips to hers.

When I pull my lips away, I say, "Merry Christmas, Sarah."

"Merry Christmas, Harm," she says before I kiss her again.

That kiss leads to another and another until it's impossible for us to go to sleep until after we've quenched our desire for each other by making love.


	67. Chapter 67

**AN: **A big storm is supposed to be coming in tonight, and with the prediction of record breaking snow fall and ice, too, I just don't know what that's going to do to my Internet connection, so I'm posting this final part of chapter 31 early, too. Since I don't know what the storm might do, I don't want to lock myself into an exact day/date for the next update, but I'll be back. I will say that if I have no interruption in service, probably it'll probably be Tuesday. If there is some kind of problem on my end, then it'll be as soon as I can get back with you. This is the South, we aren't supposed to get snow. LOL Take care you all!

**PART FOUR**

**TUESDAY, DECEMBER 25, 2007**

**CHRISTMAS MORNING**

**SHOWER**

**MASTER BATHROOM **

**RABB HOME**

**0616**

**HARM'S POV**

I have my head under the shower, letting the water cascade over the top of my head and down my face to rinse off the soap when I feel her presence.

I turn to let the water pound into my back as she steps into my arms.

"What time are Frank and your mother supposed to be here so he can make his pancakes for us?"

"0630, why? Are you hungry?"

"Yes, but not for pancakes," she purrs as she wraps her arms around my waist and presses her body against mine. "Do you think that fourteen minutes would give us enough time?"

"No, it wouldn't," I reply before applying a quick kiss to her lips.

When our lips part, she says seductively, "Are you sure?" Then she adds, "Even if we don't take time to leave the shower?"

"I'm sure we don't have time," I say with regret.

When she pokes out her lower lip to offer a little pout, I add, "Besides, I don't have any condoms in here, so you'll just have to settle for pancakes."

"Fine..." she says, still pouting. "...but there had better be bacon to go with those pancakes," she adds as she uses her hands to push against my chest until I release her.

Her eyes are locked on mine in a glaring stare.

Sometimes, when you're face-to-face with an unhappy Marine, a tactical retreat is your best option.

"I'll just go put in that request for your bacon," I say, moving to get out of the shower.

"You do that," she huffs, but I think I'm safe. Her eyes are sparkling like they do when she's teasing me.

**LIVING ROOM**

**AFTER BREAKFAST**

After taking their plates to the kitchen, Ty, Abigail and Sami all run to the living room with Cocoa trotting closely behind.

Ty, Abigail and Sami are all kneeling around the Christmas tree, Cocoa lying on the floor behind them.

My mother is sitting in the overstuffed chair holding Matthew.

Frank and Mattie have taken two different positions in the room in order to capture the best angles for pictures, while Tom sits quietly, watching from a seat near the doorway.

Mac's Uncle Matt is sitting at one end of the couch, and my grandmother is seated at the other end.

Mac and I are standing by the fireplace, pretty much in the same place where we were last night when we put up the stocking hangers and stockings.

I've seen Abigail look at the big box with her name on it several times while we were waiting for everyone to get settled in the room. I hope that she likes it when she finally sees it...and with everyone in the room, it's time to find out what's in these boxes, but stockings first.

"Is everybody ready for the fun part of Christmas - the presents?" Mac asks the children.

"YES!" the three children on the floor say in unison.

"Well, let's warm up to the bigger presents and start with what Santa left in the stockings," I say.

"Okay!" Ty, Abigail and Sami say excitedly.

After I've passed out all the stockings and the children have begun to pull items from them, we find that Santa Frank has added a small stocking next to Matthew's music box figurine.

There's a tree ornament in Matthew's stocking that says 'Baby's First Christmas' and a savings bond. For Ty and the girls, among the usual few pieces of candy and trinkets that Frank put in the stockings, he's given them some cash, twenty dollars each. However, the contents of Mattie's stocking contains items that reflect her status as the oldest of our children and contains candy - a small box of fine chocolates - a bottle of perfume, a pair of earrings with her birth stone and a hundred dollar bill.

After the stockings have been emptied, it's time to open the presents from around the tree.

"There may be some gifts that won't make sense unless you open the gift that they go with first, so I think that we should have you open the gifts that will allow the other gifts to make sense, and then you can open whatever gifts you want to open, okay?"

"Okay!" I get another enthusiastic answer from Ty and the girls.

"Then, Sami, why don't you open that big box that has ladybug paper on it?"

Sami gets up, races to the box that's too big to be under the tree and rips off the paper.

Since she loves to try to help in the kitchen, but her size and age limit what she can do, my parents bought her a kitchen center. Among her other presents under the tree are dishes, pots and pans, and fake foods that she can pretend to cook.

When she has enough paper torn off the box to see the picture, I say, "You got a kitchen so you can cook anytime you want."

"Daddy, take it out so I can cook now, pwease," she pleads.

"I'll take it out of the box after you open your other presents, but first, let's let Abigail see her big present."

I get a reluctant nod of consent, but it is agreement.

"Abigail, it's your turn," I say before adding directions, "You don't have to pull off the paper. The box on top lifts off," I say nervously, worried that she won't like it.

"Momma, will you help me open it?" Abigail asks.

"I will if you really want me to, but I think that you should know that Ty and your daddy made your big gift, so you might want them to help you."

Abigail looks down at Ty. "Do you feel good enough to help me?"

"Sure," Ty says, getting to his feet.

I'm sure that he's anxious to see if she likes it, too.

"Harm, will you help, too?" Abigail asks, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.

"Of course," I say, moving over to the box.

With Ty on one side and me on the other, we lift the box off to reveal the contents to Abigail's waiting eyes.

Abigail's eyes open wide in what I hope is awe.

After a moment, she steps forward to take a better look at the rooms.

"You really made this?"

"Dad did most of it, but I helped," Ty answers.

"It's the only one like it in the world because we made it just for you," I reply as I watch Abigail look over the front of the dollhouse.

"Is it really for me?" Abigail asks.

"Yes, it's for you, but if you don't like it -" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"It's the best present ever. I love it. It's the most beautiful dollhouse that I've ever seen," she says happily. "Thank you, Daddy!"

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes when that one word, "Daddy" comes out of her mouth.

I lift her into my arms, not only to show her how pleased I am that she likes the dollhouse, but hugging her tightly gives me cover to pull myself together.

It takes a couple of moments, but I'm finally able to loosen my hold on her and lower her back down to the floor.

"I'm glad that you like it, Princess," I manage to say while concealing the fact that I'm still feeling a bit emotional because she called me 'Daddy.'

"It's got lights, and I got you some furniture for my present," Ty says excitedly once Abigail is back down on his level.

I think, between siblings and grandparents, she has furniture for every room in the house among her other gifts.

"It has lights?" Abigail asks for conformation.

"Yeah, you want to see?" Ty says enthusiastically.

"Sure," Abigail answers excitedly.

"I'll tell you what. Why don't we let Ty open his first present? Then all of you can open your other presents, and while the grown-ups open their presents, you can play," Mac suggests.

"Okay," Ty and Abigail reply, agreeing to her suggestion.

Ty's gift is in a smaller box that he accepts from Mac.

"This is cool. It would have been really great to have when I was in the hospital," Ty says about his gift of a hand-held video game system with one game.

An accessory kit and two more games are among the presents that I know are under the tree for him.

Mac and I sit down on the couch between her uncle and my grandmother and, with clasped hands, we watch as the children unwrap their remaining presents.

Tyler and Sami are "rippers." They just tear the paper to find out the contents. Abigail is a "preserver." She pulls carefully at the tape to avoid tearing the paper as if she's preserving it for future use.

As we watch our children open each of their remaining gifts, I hear my grandmother lowly humming along with the Christmas carols playing in the background as she looks on as her great grandchildren open their presents.

It makes me smile as I notice that Mattie is tearing the paper off of her presents with the excitement of a child. She's a "ripper," too.

It doesn't take long for our children to open all of their presents and have the floor littered with bows, ribbons and Christmas paper.

"We don't have no more presents, Daddy. Can we play with our new toys now?" Sami asks.

"Not just yet," my grandmother answers in my place.

"I'll clean up so that she can play now," Abigail offers.

"No, Sweetheart, that isn't what I meant. I just have a gift to give you before you play. I couldn't wrap it, so it isn't under the tree," my grandmother explains.

"I'll go get it for you. Where is it, Gee Gee?" Ty asks.

"It's right in front of you, but you have to promise me that you'll take very good care of her."

The three of them look down and see Cocoa.

"You don't want Cocoa any more?" Abigail asks in a quivering voice.

"It isn't that I don't want her or that I don't love her any more. I just love her so much that I want what's best for her, and having children to play with her and keep her company is better for her, and I'd like for her to be with children who I know love her, too. Now, I've had a long talk with her, and she's promised me that she'll take care of you, but you'll have to promise me to take very good care of her before I can give her to you."

"Is it okay if we keep her, Dad?" Ty asks.

"Yes, I reply.

If all of you can promise Gee Gee to take good care of her," Mac adds.

"I promise, Gee Gee," Ty says before turning to look at his sisters to see if they'll promise, too.

Two more 'I promises' later, Mac and I are no longer just parents, but dog owners, much to the delight of our three middle children.

While the three children begin to play with their new toys, Mac stands and moves to the tree so that she can hand out the remaining gifts.

Mom and Frank are hard to buy for - the expression 'what do you get a man who has everything' comes to mind - but the children wanted to get them something, so, for Mom, perfumed talc and lotions, for Frank, a new golf shirt, and, for the two of them, a new framed family picture taken the week that Mac retired.

Mattie said that Tom had been reading a lot, so his gift was a gift certificate at a chain book store.

For Uncle Matt, whose visit was supposed to be a surprise, though I blew it, received the same family photo that my parents got, except in a different frame.

My grandmother is brought to tears when we - my parents, Mac and me - present her with her gift, a specially commissioned painting of the whole family. The scene is the farm, and the very talented artist painted our family - my parents, my grandmother and the rest of my family, including a baby in Mac's arms - in front of the house. When you look at the man sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, you can see that he's painted in my father and, behind him in the window of the house, looking out at all of us, is the face of my grandfather.

"It's beautiful," my grandmother chokes out as she stares at the picture. "Thank you."

Though we told them that gifts for Mom and Dad weren't necessary, Mac and I are presented with some pictures that Ty and the girls made just for us.

The hand-drawn and colored pictures are sweet, but they can't top the gifts of having Tyler out of the hospital and here with us for the holiday or, for me, Abigail calling me 'Daddy.'

I realize that Abigail has used the word only once, but I'm hoping that it'll happen more often until, one day, she'll call me 'daddy' as freely as she's calling Mac 'momma' now.

As far as gifts for each other are concerned, Mac and I wanted the focus of the day to be on the family and our children, so we agreed to exchange gifts later tonight.

With no more gifts under the tree, the men initiate the clean up of the living room while the ladies move to the kitchen to start preparing the holiday feast.

**NURSERY**

**2142**

I have my arm around Mac's waist as we stare into the bed of our youngest child.

"Mac, I think that I can explain about the video now," I whisper so as not to wake up Matthew.

"I'm listening."

"When I think about my father, I'm sad and I miss him, but having a family has changed things. The pain of that day in 1969 has been slowly replaced over these last three years with being able to be open to the joys of Christmas: the sound of bells ringing, the smell of cinnamon steeping in the warming apple cider that my mother makes every year that smells so good and in the joy of seeing my children's smiles as they open their presents. I've finally been able to let him go." I turn and wrap my other arm around her. "All those years, I kept him in my life and kept others out. Now I've learned that, in order to let him go, I needed to let someone else in, and I can't tell you how much having you in my life means to me. I love you."

"And I love you," she replies before I press my lips gently against hers.

"There is one other joy of Christmas that I need to experience this evening," I say.

"And what would that be?" she asks coyly.

"The joy of seeing if my wife likes the presents that I bought her," I say before kissing the end of the nose.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to miss out on any of the joys of Christmas. What did you get me?" she asks with a big smile.

I take her hand and gently pull her towards the door. "You'll have to come with me to find out."

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2200**

The excitement of the day had the children up a little longer than usual, but they're all asleep now. So, at last, it's time for Mac and me to exchange our gifts in the peace and quiet of our bedroom.

When we came into the bedroom a few minutes ago, she said that she needed to get my presents out of the closet, but she's been gone longer than it should take to retrieve a couple of gifts.

She didn't mention that it was heavy, or I'd have offered to get it out of the closet for her.

I sometimes wish that I had her sense of timing because, at times like this, I'd know exactly how long she's been gone.

I do know that I've had time to get her gifts out from under the bed and strip down to my boxers while she's been retrieving my gift.

I wonder what's taking her so long.

I slip into bed, but I'm impatient and am about to get up and go to the closet to see what the problem is. However, before I can move, she steps out into the bedroom.

She's changed clothes.

From the tattered terry cloth robe that she's wearing, it doesn't make sense that changing should have taken her so long, but it appears that she freshened up her makeup and brushed her hair, too.

She's also carrying a rather large rectangular box with another much smaller one on top that I'm now staring at, trying to figure out its contents.

"Are you ready to exchange gifts?" she asks softly.

"Yes. You?" I answer and then question.

"Yes. Do you want to exchange them one at a time or just trade them all at once?"

"I think that one at a time is good. Don't you?" I answer.

"Okay," she says, putting down the two boxes on the bed that she was holding and picking up the one on top and handing it to me.

I reach down and slide the top box off the stack of three that I have for her, and we trade gifts.

She opens the box.

My first gift to her is a bottle of her favorite perfume, which I've been giving her for years. Since it isn't really a surprise, I'm not expecting any reaction to that gift.

"Thank you," she says before giving my lips a peck of a kiss. "Now open your gift."

My first gift from her is a digital picture frame similar to the one that we gave her not too long ago.

"With the children growing and changing so fast and the number of pictures that are taken around here, I thought that you'd like to put it on your desk at work. You can have all your favorite photos, but need only one frame. I really like the one that you gave me. I've already loaded some of my favorite pictures in it for you, but there's room for more, so you can add your favorites on there, too."

"Thank you," I say before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

We each reach for the next gift.

My second gift to her is her charm bracelet with a charm added for Matthew.

"This bracelet is one of my favorite gifts ever. It has reminders of all the things that I love in this world." Her smile is radiant as she looks over the other charms.

"I'm glad you like it."

I tear the paper off of my second gift and open the box to find that it's a leather briefcase.

"When I was helping you get ready to go to Washington, I noticed that your briefcase was looking a little beat up. If you're going to start hanging out with the SecNav, you need to carry a more respectable looking briefcase."

"I don't know about the 'hanging out with the SecNav' part, but the latches on the other one are starting to stick, so I can really use a new briefcase. Thanks."

I lean towards her to kiss her, but she backs away.

"Well, when I talked to Harriet to wish the Roberts family a Merry Christmas yesterday, she told me that Bud said that the scuttlebutt is that the SecNav is assembling a legal team to give him recommendations on what stance, legally speaking, the U.S. should take on things like the pirates off the coast of Somalia, for example, in preparation for questions that he might be asked after the election. I don't want to spoil it for you, but your name has apparently come up as the guy who the SecNav is leaning towards to head that legal team."

"So the SecNav is looking for a replacement for Commander Lindsey." I shudder at the thought that I might be being considered as a replacement for him, which would inevitably lead to me being compared to my predecessor.

"If Harriet remembered correctly and I understood her...it isn't the same job that Lindsey held as legal advisor to the SecNav. It's a temporary position and, though you'd report your findings to him, the SecNav wouldn't be involved in the actual meetings."

"A temporary assignment means that I wouldn't be able to take all of you with me. I don't want to be clear across the country from my family again. I didn't like it when it was just you and Mattie here, and I'd like it even less now that we have four more children."

"It's only scuttlebutt right now, so don't let it spoil your Christmas. You remember when Abigail called you daddy?"

That sparks a smile, and the rumor mill is forgotten.

"Yeah," I respond with a blush. "I have to say that it was the biggest joy of Christmas for me this year...you know, next to Tyler being out of the hospital."

"Speaking of the joys of Christmas, do you know what would give me that giddy feeling?"

"Judging from that look on your face, I've got a pretty good idea, but don't you want your other present first?" I ask.

"I have another present?" she asks shyly.

I reach down and pick up the last gift off the floor, which is about the same size as my briefcase box.

She takes the box, snatches it really, and starts to tear off the paper.

I smile as I realize that Abigail is the only "preserver" in the family.

She smiles when she sees the new terry cloth robe.

"Take out the robe. There's more in there," I explain.

She lifts the robe out of the box and sees the bath accessories: bubble bath and bath oils, a candle and, underneath, a big, fluffy towel like they use in fancy spas. There's also a piece of cloth that's too big to be a washcloth and too small to be another towel. It has her interest, and she pulls the roll of cloth out of the box.

"A flannel nightgown," she says disgustedly. "Why would you give me a flannel nightgown?"

She's upset. That isn't the reaction that I was expecting, confusion maybe, but not anger.

"A couple of reasons...one is because it's warm and soft and will keep you warm when I'm not home. The other reason is that you've voiced concerns that I might not find you attractive anymore, and I couldn't think of anything less flattering to your curves than a flannel nightgown." She lowers her head, breaking eye contact with me. I lift her chin with my index finger so that she's forced to look at me while I finish. "So, when I strip that flannel nightgown off of you to make love to you, you'll know that it's because I find _you_ attractive and not some sexy lingerie that you're wearing."

"Oh, Harm, you're so sweet," she says before giving me a gentle kiss. Then she gets up off the bed.

She unties her robe. "But I bought this for you," she says as she opens her robe, pulling it back until it's almost off her shoulders, and I see why she freshened up. She's in a red lace teddy with strategically placed triangles of green fabric - very Christmasy.

"And I love it," I moan as I stare at her in the revealing outfit.

She drops the robe and crawls onto the bed. "Do you really like it?"

"Yes," I growl as I reach for her.

Our lips crash together in a kiss that's heated and full of passion.

"What about the flannel one?" she asks as my lips move from hers to her neck just below her ear.

"If you want to change into it, I'll help you get out of this one," I reply teasingly between kisses to her neck.

I hear a chuckle escape before she takes in a short, sharp intake of air. I've hit the target, the one tiny spot on her neck that she can't deny gets to her because she reacts involuntarily to kisses there.

It's truly amazing how I ever managed to resist her for so long. If I were honest, making love to her at any point before we did would've been my undoing because we fit together so perfectly.

Our passion escalates quickly and our joining is becoming a need.

I reach for the drawer of the night table to retrieve a condom in preparation for the big moment, but her hand comes to rest on my arm.

"Let's skip the condom tonight. Let's just be together."

"But the doctor said -"

"But she isn't the same doctor who helped me to get pregnant," she says, cutting me off. "She has no idea how much I ... we went through to have Matthew." She starts to kiss my neck until she finds that one spot that I have, eliciting a groan from me. "It's Christmas. I want to feel the joy of being with you without any barriers," she whispers in my ear.

I turn back to her and cup her face in my hand before leaning over to kiss her lips.

The thought of being inside of her without anything between us stokes the fire of desire already burning within me as I start to pull that new teddy from her body.

When the time comes to extinguish the fire in both of us, I slowly enter her moist warm center.

The feel of her wrapped around me without the barrier of a condom almost proves to be too much after just a couple of strokes, but I manage to hold off until her back arches and we, in a familiar but recently not heard set of moans, reach the moment of release together.

We position ourselves into a post coital cuddle and lay like that in silence until we're able to catch our breath.

"Merry Christmas," I say softly.

"Merry Christmas," she says in response.

Sated, we lie together until the thoughts of the joys that we've shared this Christmas fade into dreams for the New Year.


	68. Chapter 68

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - ORDERS ARE ORDERS**

**PART ONE**

**FRIDAY, JANUARY 4, 2008**

**NURSERY**

**RABB HOME**

**2135**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm sitting in the rocking chair, patting Matthew's back, but my thoughts are on his father.

Harm has been too quiet the last two days.

There's something on his mind...something's bothering him.

"I'd think that it's Mattie leaving on Sunday, but if that were the case, he wouldn't be in the den working, would he? He'd be spending time with Mattie, wouldn't he, Matthew?"

Matthew lets out a burp.

"Was that a yes burp or a no burp?" I ask with a smile as Matthew quits squirming, settling down now that he's free of the air bubble in his tummy.

"Your daddy's been back to work since the day after Christmas, but he didn't start working at home until last night. That would lead a logical person to believe that whatever is on your daddy's mind is work related," I say, still speaking my thoughts out loud while I rock Matthew to sleep.

I sit in silence, rocking Matthew and contemplating what could have Harm so distracted.

When I'm sure that Matthew is soundly asleep enough that he won't wake when I move him, I place my sleeping baby boy, who's the spitting image of his father, down in his crib.

Matthew makes a face and moves his arms, but his eyes are still closed.

I reach into the crib and put my hand on his belly, which calms him.

"Sweet dreams, my precious baby boy. There's no reason to worry about a thing. Momma's going to find out what's bothering Daddy. Everything is going to be okay."

I move to leave the room, but stop just inside the door to look back at our son.

"Actually, I think that now is a good time for Momma to start asking questions," I say over my shoulder before finally exiting the room, headed for the den to talk to Harm.

**DEN**

**2149**

**HARM'S POV**

I hear the tap of someone knocking on the door.

"Come in," I reply to the person on the other side of the door as I shuffle a few folders around to cover the crime scene photos and reports that I was reviewing when the knock occurred.

The door opens, and Mac steps in.

"I know that you're busy working, but we need to talk," she says flatly, and her expression is serious.

"I should be finished with what I'm doing in a little bit. Can it wait until I come to bed?"

"I don't know. You'll have to tell me," she replies.

"I don't understand your riddles, Mac. Unless someone is sick and we need to discuss if a trip to the emergency room tonight is warranted, can't it wait?" I snap at her.

"No one is sick, so I guess we'll talk when you come to bed ... if I'm still awake," she says as she spins around and quickly exits the room.

Her last remark, along with her tone and hasty retreat, tells me that I've hurt her feelings.

I cover my face with my hand as I lean back in my leather desk chair.

I didn't mean to hurt her feelings.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2200**

Since I know that she's upset with me, I'm not sure what kind of reception I'll get, so I enter the dark bedroom cautiously.

"Mac, I'm sorry," I begin quietly as I close the door behind myself, making the room darker.

"I'm listening," she says from her position on the bed.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," I say before moving towards her.

"Then why did you?" she asks.

My eyes having adjusted to the darkness, I can see that she's now sitting up.

"I know that it's no excuse, but I've got something on my mind and I just wasn't thinking..." I say before sitting down next to her on edge of the bed. "...but I'm here now. What do we need to talk about?"

"What's on your mind," she says softly.

"That can wait. Tell me what you wanted to talk about when you came into the den."

"What's been bothering you for the last two days is what I wanted to talk to you about. I suspect that it's work related, but I wanted to make sure that it wasn't something to do with our family."

"No, it isn't about the family. What could be wrong there? Abigail called me daddy, and though it's been only one time so far, have you noticed that she's started to greet me along with Ty and Sami when I come home from work?"

The thought of my children greeting me each evening brings a smile to my face.

"Then, is it me? I mean, the last time that we were together was New Year's."

"No, it isn't you...and New Year's was only three days ago," I say with a chuckle. "It's work ... sort of."

"A case that's gotten under your skin?" she asks.

"No."

I reach for her hand and, as my hand wraps around hers, our eyes lock on each other. I can see the concern in her eyes and instantly know that I can no longer keep the news to myself.

"You know, we never did have that talk about my retirement," I say, shaking my head.

"Is that what's on your mind, retiring?" she asks, sounding confused.

"Mostly I'm sorry that I didn't make up my mind to retire before this past Wednesday," I say slowly. I know that I'm dragging out the news, but I really didn't want to tell her until after Abigail's birthday party tomorrow, and Mattie and Tom left on Sunday. Not wanting to just blurt out the news, I add, "If I had, then I might have been able to stay in my current billet until my retirement became effective."

"Might have been able to stay... You got orders to your next duty station on Wednesday?"

"I haven't received my official orders yet, but I did get a call informing me of my next assignment. The paperwork verification should arrive by the middle of next week."

"You're headed where and when?" she asks with slight trepidation.

"February 4th, I'm to report to the SecNav," I say, finally giving her the rest of the news.

"Are you filling Lindsey's old job or are you going to be heading the SecNav's legal advisory team...or do you even know yet for sure?" she says excitedly.

"Yes, I'll be heading the SecNav's legal advisory team," I reply, not mirroring her enthusiasm.

"So the scuttlebutt was right," she says with a grin.

"As usual, Harriet's scoop was about half right. The title that they're giving me might have been what he used to sell the idea to whomever he needed to in order to get the necessary allocation of funds, but, in addition to heading the legal team, which is perhaps my main duty, part of the job description is also to provide counsel to the SecNav during my term, as well. So, it would seem that I'm doing Commander Lindsey's old job in addition to a new one," I explain.

I hear her swallow hard before she asks with noticeable apprehension, "Is it a temporary assignment?"

"No, at thirteen months in duration, it's shorter than the normal length for a duty assignment, but the SecNav has had the position labeled as permanent special duty," I reply.

"So it qualifies as accompanied duty!" she says excitedly.

She pulls her hand from mine and wraps her arms around my neck.

"I know that you weren't too keen on the idea of working for the SecNav, but I don't know why it's been weighing on your mind so much if we can come with you," she says while hugging my neck.

"Because I don't want to be on the other side of the country without you, but I don't know if moving our family across the country is the right thing to do either," I say into her ear as she continues to hold onto my neck.

As soon as I've finished my answer, she releases her hold and pulls back, but not away from me. She lets her palms rest on my chest.

Her eyes don't convey anger, but her facial expression says that I've confused her, and sadness laces her words when she speaks.

"Why would you think that not having us there with you is the right thing to do?"

"Having you there is right for you and me, but I was trying to think about it from the children's perspective. They're going back to school on Monday. Moving them in the middle of a school year can't be a good idea. What if uprooting and moving them causes some sort of set back?"

I stop to take a breath before continuing to tell her my thoughts on the matter.

"Ty's moved from Virginia to here and then from the condo to this house. It seems easy for him to make new friends and settle in without much difficulty, and I think that he'll handle another move just fine. Matthew's too young to realize what's going on. As long as his needs are being met, he'll be okay. At three, I doubt that Sami will have a complete grasp of the concept, but she's an outgoing and energetic kid, and I don't think that she'll have any trouble getting settled once we get to the new place, so she'll be fine, too. Then there's Abigail. She's sensitive to change. She's shy and introverted, so she doesn't make friends easily. I don't know how she'll handle moving from the first home that she's had in a while and away from a place where she has a few friends, but I seriously doubt that it'll be good for her."

The corners of Mac's mouth start to turn up, and a smile starts to make an appearance.

"You're a good dad..." she says before giving me a soft peck on the lips "...trying to figure out what's best for them, but I think that you're over thinking it. Frankly, I'd be more concerned if we couldn't go with you and how we'd explain that orders are orders and that you have to go where they send you without the girls thinking that you're abandoning them, Abigail in particular since she just called you daddy for the first time."

"Then, we're all going to Washington next month?" I ask, remembering that Mac can always be depended upon to come up with a dispassionate plan.

"We are ... or we'll be joining you as soon as it can possibly be arranged. You and I spent far too long apart for me to just let you go off unaccompanied when your orders will let us travel with you, Sailor," she says before covering my mouth with hers.

After our passionate kiss comes to an end, she pulls back slightly from my embrace to look me in the eye.

"You really didn't want to go for months without one of those when you didn't have to, now did you?" she asks breathlessly.

"No," I say, staring at her lips. "I didn't want to be without you period," I say, pulling her to me once more.

However, she offers resistance to my embrace and starts to speak.

"We switched feeding times for Matthew tonight. I took yours at bedtime so that you could finish up your work, which means that you're supposed to take the middle of the night feeding. So shouldn't you either finish your work or get some sleep?" she asks.

"I'll get my work finished and take my shift, don't worry," I say, moving my lips closer to hers. "Just kiss me."

"Kiss you. Is that an order, Captain Rabb?"

"Do I need to make it an order, Ma'am?" I ask with a cocked eyebrow while making another attempt to pull her closer to me.

This time, I encounter no resistance.

"No," she says giddily before her lips come to mine.

**2318**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm drawing circles on his chest with my fingertips as we lay tangled in the sheets after our lovemaking.

I pushed him to talk earlier and now I'm not sure if I should press my luck by asking him anything else, even if it's only to find out if he feels better.

"Mac..." he says.

"Yeah?" I respond.

"When do you think that we should tell the kids that we're moving?" he asks.

"We can tell them in the morning at breakfast," I reply.

"Are you sure? Tomorrow afternoon is Abigail's birthday party. It might spoil it for her."

"I don't think that it's the children who you have to worry about," I say, lifting my head to look him in the eye. "It's your parents who should worry you. We're moving their grandchildren twenty-three hundred miles away."

"I was so caught up in worrying about the children that I hadn't even thought about how they'd take the news. You're right. They aren't going to happy," he says.

"Do you think that we should tell everyone at once or tell them in groups?" I ask, wondering what he has in mind.

"We should certainly tell Ty and the girls at the same time, but I don't know if we should tell everyone at once or not. Why?" he questions.

"Your parents are coming over here on Sunday morning to see Mattie one more time before she and Tom leave for the airport. We could tell everyone else at breakfast on Sunday and then tell your parents when they get here, or we could wait until they get here and then tell everyone at once," I offer as options.

"Do you really think that we should tell everyone so soon? Shouldn't we wait until I get my official orders next week?" he asks, and I can tell that he wants to put this off as long as possible

"I guess we don't have to tell them this weekend, but the sooner the better. They're going to know that something is going on if they see me packing things to get ready for the move, and I don't think that we should wait for anyone to start asking questions before we tell them," I say, trying to reason with him.

"You're right. The sooner we tell them, the better. Besides, now that you've mentioned telling my parents, letting everyone know will give me one less thing to worry about," he says with a sigh.

"When did you become such a worry wart?" I ask.

"When I became a husband and a father," he answers with a smile before giving me a sweet and loving kiss.

"Well, I'm not sure that your husband status matters if you aren't going to treat me like your wife."

I see a look of confusion take over his features and I start to explain before he questions my meaning.

"As a husband, you should have told your wife this news on Wednesday night so that she wouldn't have had to spend the last two days worrying about you," I say, gently scolding him.

"Well, is there any way that I can make up for my indiscretion?" he asks in a husky voice.

"Maybe..." I say, running my hand down his side until I reach his hip.

"You could give me a foot massage," I say teasingly.

"You want to collect now or later?" he asks with a wide, happy smile.

He's feeling better. I can see it in his eyes as he smiles.

"Later, because you need some sleep before Matthew wakes up wanting to eat again," I say with a chuckle.

I apply a quick peck to his lips.

"Good night," I say, placing my head on his chest.

"Good night," he says as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.


	69. Chapter 69

**PART TWO**

**SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**RABB HOME**

**0330**

**HARM'S POV**

After feeding Matthew, I finished the paperwork that I'd brought home. I'm trying to keep caught up so that I'm not trying to get caught up a few days prior to my transfer.

I lift the sheet - it's all that Mac's left me since she's cocooned herself in the comforter - and slip into bed.

My body settles onto the mattress, and I close my eyes just a moment before I feel her snuggling into my side.

"I was beginning to think that you weren't coming back," she says as her head takes its familiar resting place on my chest. "You were gone so long that I got cold."

"Finished up the paperwork that I had after I fed Matthew," I state sleepily while my arm automatically wraps around her shoulders.

Her bare breasts press against me as she settles into our usual 'falling asleep' position.

Her naked body against the exposed skin of my chest is enough to stir the part of me that thinks that I'll never get enough of her, but I'm exhausted, and sleep wins out over desire this time.

**KITCHEN **

**0615**

**MAC'S POV**

Harm's grandmother hears me enter the kitchen.

"You're running late this morning, Harmon," she says.

"It's Mac, not Harm, Grandma," I inform her.

She spins around from the counter where she's waiting for the coffee maker to finish brewing.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. It's just that I usually see Harm when he's on his way out to exercise."

"I know, but he's sleeping in and I didn't want to disturb him, so you get me and the baby monitor this morning." I say the latter as I wave the baby monitor that I have in my hand in the air.

"I didn't mean to sound disappointed. I just was looking forward to seeing him this morning so that I could ask him if he's all right. He's been acting oddly the last couple of days, and now that you've told me that he's sleeping in, I have to ask you...should I be worried about him?"

"No need to worry about him. He had something on his mind, but we talked, and between talking and catching up on some work last night, he just needed to sleep in this morning."

"I see ... and now that he's shared with you, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You know, I'm getting older, but my ears are still good if you ever need to talk."

"I appreciate that, but I'm fine...really...and so is Harm. You don't have anything to worry about."

"If you say so, dear, but remember that I'm here if you need to talk."

**HARM'S POV**

"I appreciate that, but I'm fine...really...and so is Harm. You don't have anything to worry about." I hear Mac say that to my grandmother as I approach the kitchen.

"If you say so, dear, but remember that I'm here if you need to talk," my grandmother responds as I reach the doorway.

"We should tell her," I say, entering the kitchen.

"Tell me what?" my grandmother asks.

"I know that we didn't come up with a clear plan on whether we were going to tell them together or in groups, but I thought that we'd agreed not to tell anyone until tomorrow," Mac says as I move towards the counter and the coffeemaker.

"We did," I reply as I reach for the coffee pot, but change my mind and turn to face Mac. "However, there's something that you should know about my grandmother. Once she's gotten a whiff of something, she won't rest until she discovers what it is, so we might as well tell her." I turn to look at my grandmother. "If she'll promise to keep it under her hat and let us tell everyone else when and how we choose..."

"I promise. What's going on?" my grandmother asks, eager to be 'in the know'.

I look back to Mac for her consent to proceed, but Matthew's cry coming from the baby monitor in her hand causes her to pause momentarily.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell her before anyone else gets up, and I'll go tend to Matthew?"

I nod in agreement and then turn around to pour my grandmother and me a cup of coffee so that we can sit at the kitchen table and I can inform her of our impending move.

**LIVING ROOM**

**1320**

"Why don't you want to come to Abigail's birthday party, Gee Gee?" Ty asks as we wait for the girls to join us so that we can leave the house.

"It isn't that I don't want to come, but Matthew is too young to do a craft project, so I volunteered to stay here with him, and while I'm at it, I'll keep Mattie's father company, but the family is coming back here for your sister's birthday dinner, and I wouldn't miss that."

"Mac says that she's fixing Abigail's hair and they'll be ready in just a minute," Mattie says, entering the living room with Samantha holding her hand.

"I'm ready, Daddy. We go now?" Sami asks cheerfully, so I know that she had a good nap.

"We can't go without your sister. She's the birthday girl," I reply.

"Mommy says we gonna do something fun?" Sami says like a question as she pulls her hand from Mattie's and makes a dash for the chair in which I'm sitting.

"You're going to get to paint something and bring it home. Does that sound like fun?" I reply as she reaches me and I scoop her up onto my lap.

"I get to paint it?" Sami asks.

"Yes, you get to pick out what you want to paint and paint it yourself."

"That _does_ sound fun!" Sami says happily.

"We're ready," Mac says from the doorway. "She wanted to wear her hair like mine."

If I didn't know that Abigail wasn't her biological daughter, I'd never guess that she wasn't as they stand side-by-side.

Abigail's hair is lighter in color than Mac's, but styled the same in a ponytail bound at the crown of her head. Their eyes are the same dark brown with gold flecks in them, and both are dressed in jeans and a red top. They look so much like mother and daughter that it's amazing that they aren't genetically related.

"Then let's go have some fun," I say, standing up with Sami.

**CERAMIC CAFE ART LOUNGE**

**LA MESA, CA**

**1400**

A woman comes into the room and stops to speak with Mac and me, but she asks us only to verify that everyone that we're expecting has arrived. When we confirm that everyone is here, she moves to the end of the table where the children are sitting and begins to speak with them while I start the camcorder.

"Hello, I'm told that all the guests are here. So let me start by telling you that my name is Gwen. I'm here to answer your questions and make sure that everyone has a good time. Now, which one of you is Abigail?"

Abigail raises her hand.

"So, you're the birthday girl. How old are you?"

"I'm six, but I'm going to be seven on Monday."

"Seven, you say ... that's a nice age. I wouldn't mind being seven again." Abigail offers a shy smile. "And who are your guests today, Abigail?"

Abigail touches the arm of the little girl next to her. "This is my friend, Becky, and next to her is my friend, Amy." Then she points directly across from her. "That's my big sister, Mattie," she says. Then, moving her pointer finger down the line, she continues, "That's my little sister, Sami, my brother, Ty...and the other boy is Ty's friend, Johnny. He came because my other brother is a baby, and Momma didn't want Ty to be the only boy."

"It was nice of your mom to invite a friend for your brother," Gwen says.

"Yes, my momma is very nice." I swing the video camera to capture the expression on Mac's face at Abigail's comment.

Mac's smile is broad and beaming with happiness.

I pan back to Abigail.

"Did your mom tell you what you're going to do today?" Gwen asks Abigail.

"Yes, we're going to paint on something," Abigail responds.

"That's right. You're each going to be able to choose a piece of ceramic to paint and, when you're done, you and each one of your guests will be able to take the piece that they painted home with them," Gwen informs the children.

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

The children and even Mac have picked out what they want to paint and, after Gwen has given a brief demonstration of the different things that they can do to decorate their pieces, the creative process begins.

"Why you not painting with us, Daddy?" Sami asks.

"Because somebody has to be behind the camera," I answer.

"Is it that or because you just aren't much of an artist?" Mattie teases.

"I don't know what you mean by that..." I start, but Mac and Mattie both start to laugh. "...What?" I ask, not in on the joke.

"I think that she's referring to a certain Easter -" Mac replies.

"When you decorated an Easter egg," Mattie finishes.

I just shake my head at the thought of that ugly egg. "I'll give you that it wasn't as pretty an egg as everyone else's, but it had character," I say.

"I'm sure it was nice 'cause Daddy can do anything," Sami declares in my defense.

"Thank you, Sami. I appreciate your confidence in me."

"Do you think that I'm doing a good job, Daddy?" Abigail asks, and my heart jumps for joy because she just called me 'Daddy' for the second time - and I have both times captured on film. The first time is on the Christmas video that Frank took and the second is on the video that I'm recording now.

"Yes, I think you're doing a very good job. In fact, why don't we give your masterpiece a close up?" I say, zooming the camera lens onto the piece in front of her on the table.

"My piece needs a close up, too, Daddy," Sami says.

"Okay, I'll get yours next," I reply.

When I move the camera to Sami's piece, my little ham turns into a Vanna White wannabe, showing off her piece. However, she does give credit where credit is due. "And Mattie helped me do it," she says in conclusion, bringing a smile to my face.

To make sure that no one feels that they didn't get a close up of their creation, I go around the table and let each child show off their project to the camera before its time for cupcakes and punch.

**1525**

I'm disappointed when it's time for Gwen to box up the last ceramic piece for departure, thank the children for coming and express her hope that they all had a good time.

I had such a good time watching them paint, eat cupcakes and drink punch while the paint on their pieces dried, but it's true that all good things must come to an end, and the time has come for us to leave.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**1615**

We get home and, as arranged, Frank has brought over the first of Abigail's gifts when he and Mom came over to help decorate while we were out.

All the children stop short as we enter the living room and they see the bicycle in the middle of the living room floor with a wide pink ribbon wrapped around it and a big bow on a sign between the handlebars that reads 'Abigail'.

"Abigail, we thought that you might like to have this present before dinner so that you could ride for a few minutes before it gets dark," I say to explain why she's getting the bike now instead of with her other presents.

Everyone watches her reaction as it sinks in that the bicycle is for her.

"What do you say? Do you want to put a few miles on it before dinner, Abigail?" I ask.

"Yes, please," she replies with a bright smile.

"Can I ride my bike, too?" Sami asks in the whiny voice of a three-year-old who isn't sure that she likes anyone else being the center of attention.

"Why don't you take Abigail out for the first ride, and I'll help anyone else who wants to ride get their bikes out of the garage?" Frank says to me, volunteering to help out.

"I'll get the video camera and document her first ride," Mattie volunteers.

**OUTSIDE THE RABB HOME**

**A COUPLE OF MINUTES LATER **

Abigail's on her bike and pedaling along nicely, but I'm following along, not wanting to let go of her.

"I've ridden a bike before. You don't have to hold on. You can let go, Daddy," Abigail says.

I want to say, 'But I just got you. I don't want to let you go yet.' However, I take a deep breath and let go of the back of the bike.

I feel the sensation of eyes on me and turn to see that Mac is out on the lawn. She's been watching me with Abigail. She smiles, and I turn back to watch my little girl riding happily down the sidewalk on her new bike.

"Daddy, here I come!" I hear this from behind me, and I turn to see Sami pedaling her tricycle down the driveway.

**DINING ROOM**

**1720**

We've been summoned to the table for dinner, but tonight's dinner is very different from most. It's a birthday dinner for Abigail.

While we were out, my grandmother and my parents decorated the room with white and pink balloons and streamers. The theme of the table decorations is Cinderella, and her image is on the paper tablecloth and napkins.

Mac allowed our own little princess, the birthday girl, to pick the menu for her dinner party. Her choice was chicken strips with BBQ sauce for dipping and macaroni and cheese from the blue box. Mac said that she requested that salad be served also, quote, "So Daddy won't go hungry." I was skeptical that she actually called me 'Daddy' when she made the request a few days ago, but after calling me 'Daddy' twice today, she just might have said it the way that it was quoted to me.

**LIVING ROOM**

**AFTER DINNER**

After taking our dishes to the kitchen, we've all moved to the living room to let Abigail open her presents.

She's a "preserver" with the wrapping paper on her birthday presents just like she was with her Christmas presents.

She opens each one with care and looks in awe at the gift inside. She hasn't received that many presents, so an average child, including her siblings, would've taken five minutes or less to open what took her almost twenty minutes.

When all the gifts are opened, in addition to the bike that she got before dinner from Mac and me, she received a handful of new outfits: some dresses, some jeans and tops, and a new pair of shoes from Grandma and Grandpa Burnett, a couple of new DVD's: one from Ty and another one from Mattie, and some new ponytail holders and ribbons for her hair from Sami. Gee Gee gave her a gold cross necklace, her first 'big girl piece of jewelry' Gee Gee called it.

**DINING ROOM**

**AFTER OPENING PRESENTS**

Since the children had cupcakes this afternoon at the ceramic store, instead of cake for dessert, we're having only ice cream. The birthday twist is that each child will be able to create their own sundae by adding the topping or toppings of their choice.

We've all reassembled in the dining room to make the personalized sundaes before it's time for the first bath of the night, leading to the bedtime routine for the children.

**2139**

I leave the nursery after feeding Matthew to head for bed, but I make a stop at the doorway to the girls' room.

**MAC'S POV **

I just finished making a final sweep of the house, checking one last time that the kitchen was clean and that the lights were all off when I see Harm peering in the girls' room.

"Harm, I don't think that she talks in her sleep," I whisper as I run my hand over his back.

"What?" he asks as he looks at me, and I can tell that I've pulled him back from some place where he was with his thoughts.

"You aren't going to miss hearing her call you daddy because I don't think that she talks in her sleep," I say, rephrasing my earlier comment.

"I wasn't thinking about that...exactly. I was thinking about how at ease she seemed to be today. I think that today is the first time that I've felt that we were her parents...to her."

"Come on, proud poppa, we need a good night's sleep." I pause before adding in my commanding voice, "So let's go to bed!"

"Go to bed and get a good night's sleep ... are those orders, ma'am?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"Well, orders are orders," he says before slipping an arm around me. "So let's go to bed, but if you want me to get a good night's sleep, you'll have to tuck me in," he says with a full flyboy smile.

I slip an arm around his waist. "You want a bedtime story, too?" I tease.

"If you know one that has a happy ending," he says as we make our way to our bedroom.

"I know one about a Sailor and a Marine," I reply with a smile.

"Hey, do you think that we could write another chapter of that story tonight?"

"I think you wrote a good chapter last night and that you need to get some sleep tonight or the sleep deprivation might cause you to suffer from 'writer's block'," I say as we enter our bedroom.

He turns and pulls me close. "I'll have you know that I have never ever suffered from 'writer's block'," he says before kissing me soundly.

He pulls his lips away from mine. "Are you sure that I can't change your mind about "writing" tonight? he asks with a pretend pout on his face.

"I'm sure," I say before pulling from his embrace. "Our oldest daughter is leaving to go back to school tomorrow, and we've got a big announcement to make, so we need to sleep tonight," I say over my shoulder as I move towards the bathroom to get ready for bed.

"Suit yourself, but if you change your mind, I'll be right here," he says before flopping himself down in the middle of the bed, causing me to laugh.

After we've readied ourselves for bed and slipped under the covers, I snuggle up close to his side before giving him a good night kiss.

"Good night, Harm," I say, still chuckling at his antics.

"Good night, Mac," he replies as he gives me a gentle squeeze, reassuring me that all is right in our world.


	70. Chapter 70

**PART ****THREE **

**SUNDAY, JANUARY 6, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**RABB HOME**

**0530**

**HARM'S POV**

Mac and I are spooned together, sleeping comfortably when the alarm goes off.

"Harm, it's Sunday. Why did you set the alarm for 0530?" Mac asks sleepily.

"So I could run this morning since I slept in yesterday, but I'm shutting it off, so go back to sleep," I whisper. Then I place a kiss in her hair before rolling over to shut off the alarm and get out of bed.

It's a habit for me to dress appropriately for the exercise of the day and then head to the kitchen to start the coffee maker before I leave the house. I've continued to do it even though, since my grandmother arrived, she usually has the coffee started by the time I get to the kitchen.

I see no reason to break the routine this morning and head to the kitchen after I dress for my run.

**KITCHEN**

**0540**

"Mattie was wondering if you'd be up early this morning," my grandmother says as the smell of brewing coffee fills my nostrils.

"Mattie's up already?" I question.

"Yes, she said that she wanted to talk to you. She thought that this morning would be the easiest time to catch you alone," my grandmother answers.

"If she wants to talk to me, where is she?"

"I went to change out of my pajamas," Mattie says from behind me. I turn to face her, and she adds, "I could tag along with you now if you'll slow your run down to no more than a fast walk," she says, looking ready to go in her sweat pants and jacket that Mac bought for her for her first outing from the rehabilitation hospital.

"Sure, a long walk was just what I had in mind this morning," I reply with a smile.

"I'm ready if you are," she says, mirroring my smile.

"Then let's go," I say, already starting to move towards the door.

**ON THE WALK**

I figured that wanting to talk to me alone this morning means that she wants to talk about the subject of her taking off a semester, but I don't know if she wants to discuss it some more or fill me in on what she's already decided to do.

We walk for a few minutes, but, by the time we get to the stop sign at the end of our street, she must be tired of the silence, too, because she begins to speak.

"Abigail seems a lot happier than when I saw her at Thanksgiving," Mattie states.

"I think she is and I hope that it's because she's finally settling into the idea that we're her parents and that she has a home with us." I pause, but then I make a decision to tell her the news. However, I don't want to just blurt it out. "I just hope that she doesn't have a hard time adjusting to new surroundings when we move."

Mattie stops walking.

"You're moving?" Mattie screeches. "Where? When?" she questions frantically.

"Yes ... Washington ... and next month." I answer her questions quickly to ease her panic.

"You mean that you'll be close enough that, any weekend when I feel bummed about school, I'll be able to spend time with you, Mac and my brothers and sisters?"

"You could if you're still going to be in school," I say, tilting my head, questioning what she said.

"Yeah, about that," she begins as she starts walking again. "I finally told my dad about wanting to take off a semester to spend time with him." She pauses. "He freaked out and told me that he wouldn't allow it."

"So, you're going to take the time off?" I say, figuring that a surefire way to make a teenager do something is to tell them that they can't do it or that you won't allow them to do it. At least, that's the way I was when I was a teenager.

"No, I'm not, because, once my dad calmed down, he basically said the same thing that you did, that I shouldn't put my life on hold to watch his life slip away." She lets out a sigh. "I know that my father is trying, but you've got the dad thing down so much better than he does," she says, tilting her head to look up at me. "You didn't get all crazy. You listened to what I wanted to do. You were understanding of how I felt and you talked to me about the pros and cons of my choice. Then you left it up to me."

"So you've decided to stick with school?" I ask to get conformation of her decision.

"Yes, because you're both right. He told me that he's going to die and that I'm not responsible for it. His choice to spend all those years drinking is what's killing him, and I can't change that fact. He also said that the best gift that I could give him was _not_ to follow in his footsteps and make the same mistakes that he made. He then told me that he wants me to live a good, long and happy life," Mattie says, her voice heavy with emotion.

I slip my arm over her shoulders as we walk for a few minutes in silence, but when she's had time to regain some composure, she starts to speak again.

"My accident took away some of my life's choices. I still have trouble holding onto a pencil, so something like being a surgeon is out, and my reflexes aren't good enough any more to be a fighter pilot. I don't know if my father will be around for two days, two months or if he'll fool the doctors and outlive us all, but I know that, if I take time off from school, he'll worry that I'll never go back, and I don't want him to spend however long he has left worrying about me."

I stop and, when she stops, too, I embrace her.

"You're a great kid, you know that?"

"Thanks," she says before we break our embrace.

We resume our walk and take a few steps before Mattie slips her hand into mine and speaks again.

"You know that as long as Abigail has you and Mac for parents, she'll be just fine, whether she's here, in Washington or on the moon."

"Thanks," I say, giving her hand a squeeze while hoping that she's right.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB HOME**

**0600**

**MAC'S POV**

Last night, I told Harm that we needed to get to sleep, but that kiss that he gave me before we got into bed and all that talk about "writing" and then lying in bed next to him, his arms around me...I couldn't stop thinking about what it's like when we're making love.

Since I'd turned him down, I knew better than to wake him to take care of my insomnia. He would've taken too much joy in knowing that he'd aroused me and that I needed him to satisfy my desire before I could sleep.

The man is a former fighter pilot. He doesn't need an ego boost.

I may have kept his ego to a minimum, but I'm paying the price for it now. I'm tired.

As I cross the kitchen, heading for the coffee maker, Harm's grandmother says, "Good morning, Sarah. How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine. How are you doing this morning?" I reply, pouring myself a cup.

"Do you have time to sit with me while you drink your coffee so we can talk?" she asks, sounding a bit too innocent with her request.

"Yes, Matthew won't be up for about half an hour," I say, pouring sugar into my coffee while wondering what's on her mind.

"Wonderful, dear," she says, sounding a little too pleased.

Her innocent and overly pleasant tone raise my suspicions. I suspect that she's got something on her mind, so I'm sure that her request to join her this morning isn't for casual conversation.

After taking a sip from my mug to make sure that the sugar to coffee ratio is just right, I move to the table and sit down across from her.

Once I'm seated, I ask, "Do you have something in particular that you want to talk to me about this morning?" Then I carefully take a sip of my coffee.

She starts by shaking her head. "My invitation for you to join me was that obvious? I must be losing my touch."

She reaches over and pats my hand that's lying on the table. "You look tired, dear. Are you sure that you're feeling all right?"

"It's sweet of you to worry, but I'm okay. I had a restless night, a lot of tossing and turning so I didn't get much sleep, but I'm fine."

"I was just wondering. I know that the news isn't common knowledge yet, but, since we're alone, I'll ask you. Are you upset about the move?"

"No, I'm not upset about moving. Moving there is actually a good thing. We'll be closer to Mattie. Our friends, the Roberts, live in the area. So, of all the places that Harm could have been transferred, there's far worse duty than the Pentagon and a move to the DC area."

"I wouldn't have asked, but yesterday before you left the room to tend to Matthew, I got the impression from you that the news that Harm was going to share with me was bad and that you'd been upset by it when he'd told you."

"Well, you haven't lost your touch for reading people. I was a little upset, but not because we're moving, but because ... oh, it doesn't matter now."

"Sarah, please tell me what you were upset about. Maybe I can help ... or maybe just letting it out, you know, venting a little will help you feel better."

I don't respond immediately. Since Harm and I have talked about it and I'm okay now, I don't see that there's much point in telling her why I was upset.

Harm's words from yesterday morning flit through my mind, "Once she's gotten a whiff of something..." so I decide to tell his grandmother to satisfy her curiosity.

"I'll tell you, but you have to understand that Harm and I have already discussed it and we're fine. So there's no reason to worry about us. Okay?"

I wait for her nod of understanding before I explain.

"You were married to a Navy man. You know as well as anyone that orders are orders and that Harm has no control over where they choose to send him. He also has no say in when, so it didn't bother me that he was being ordered to a new duty station earlier than expected. What got to me was that Harm had been informed of his transfer on Wednesday and he didn't tell me for two days...and if that wasn't bad enough, the worst part was that Harm was considering leaving us here."

Unbeknown to either of the Rabb women, Abigail was on her way into the kitchen to find out what they were going to have for breakfast and caught only the last part, "Harm was considering leaving us here," but the only words that resounded clearly were 'Harm was leaving.' So she ran back to her room with tears streaming down her face, thinking that her worst fear, losing another daddy was coming true.

**MAC'S POV**

Harm's grandmother is right again. It does help to be able to say it out loud without giving every word thought as you try to explain your feelings to your spouse without hurting his.

"Why would he want to go and do a thing like that?" Harm's grandmother asks, sounding appalled at the idea of him doing such a thing.

"That's the way I felt about it at first, but Harm was actually thinking about our children and what kind of impact a move during the school year would have on them, especially Abigail, and if we waited for the school year to be over, it wouldn't be beneficial to move them because he'd be getting orders again in about six months and we'd be right back in the same boat. So, he thought that it might be best to leave us here," I explain.

"But you straightened him out and told him that his thinking was all screwed up, didn't you?"

"I didn't tell him that his way of thinking was screwed up. However, I did tell him that I thought that he was wrong. I told him that, because we haven't been a complete family for very long, the children would do better with a move than they would if he left us here, and that the girls, especially Abigail, might feel that he was abandoning them if he went without us."

"Since he told me that his family was moving, I assume that you convinced him that you were right," she says with a frown.

"I think that he bowed to what he considered my experience in the area more than he was convinced by anything that I said on the matter," I reply, not realizing that she might not know my background, or at least enough of it to know to what I was referring in my answer.

"Harm had previously told me that life had thrown you some curveballs through the years, but only recently did I find out that you'd been abandoned. I'm sorry, dear," she says, patting my hand with hers.

Not wanting to revisit painful parts of my past in any detail since Mattie's leaving today will be taxing enough emotionally, I don't volunteer any specifics when I reply to her comforting gesture.

"It was a long time ago, Grandma..." I say with a sigh. "...but I think that what I went through gives me insight into how Abigail might perceive Harm leaving us here."

My coffee now much cooler, I take a big swallow.

Her next questions involve such hot topics as what I'd like for breakfast, if I have a preference of who, out of the few remaining teams, goes to the Superbowl and other such things, her politeness keeping her from asking any questions about my childhood, and I'm thankful.

**KITCHEN **

**AFTER BREAKFAST **

**HARM'S POV**

Ty enters the kitchen and hands me his plate without a word.

Sami enters the kitchen on his heels, and I reach down to take her dirty breakfast plate to put it in the dishwasher.

"No," she says, pulling it close to her. "Me give it to Mommy."

"Momma's holding Matthew. I'll take it for you," I offer.

"No," she screams and runs to hide behind Mac. "Me wait for Mommy."

"Sami, give me your plate," I say sternly with my palm out so that she can place her plate on it, but she ignores me.

Before I can address Sami again, Abigail comes into the room. "Momma, here's my plate."

"I'll take it for you," I say, but she ignores me.

I'd figured that our unusally quiet morning breakfast was due to the children being upset that Mattie was leaving today, but now that I'm sure that I'm getting the cold shoulder from all the children, too, I'm beginning to wonder if there's more to it.

"Momma, you're busy." She starts motioning to her sister. "We'll bring our plates back when you're ready," she says before she and Sami turn to leave the kitchen.

"Wait," Mac says before the girls can leave the room. "Daddy was about to take Matthew," she says, moving closer to me so that I can take Matthew from her with ease. "If you'll wait just a second, I'll take your dishes."

A few moments later, Matthew's in my arms, and both girls have happily handed their plates over to Mac and left the room.

"At the breakfast table, I was chalking the silence up to them being upset that Mattie's leaving this morning, but what the hell was that all about? Ty didn't say a word, and Sami sassed me. It's like they're angry with me for some reason."

"Yes, that's the way it seems. I wonder why they're angry at you," Mac says while putting the dishes into the dishwasher. "Do you think that they're angry with you because Mattie's leaving today?" she asks.

"If that were the reason, why wouldn't they have been angry at me when she left at Thanksgiving?"

"Good point..." She pauses. "...but I can't think of anything other than Mattie leaving that might be upsetting them, can you?"

"No, and I think what bothers me most is, if they're already upset with me, how are they going to react when I tell them that we're moving?"

Matthew starts to stir, seemingly at the word moving, as if he wanted me to know that he'd heard the news just now.

I look down and, momentarily distracted from my conversation with Mac, I speak to Matthew. "I forgot that I hadn't told you yet, but there's no reason for you to get worked up. You'll have everything that you need there, too."

I turn my attention back to Mac. "With my grandma and Mattie both already in on the news, I'm not sure that it's wise to put off telling everyone else. What do you think?"

"I think that we should stick with the plan, tell them all today and be done with it, leaving our minds clear to deal with whatever is upsetting them now and any questions that they may have about the move and how it effects them," Mac replies before closing the door on the dishwasher.

"Then, when you're ready, you round up the troops and meet me in the living room where I'm headed to put our little guy in his swing."

"I can come back later and wash up the few things that wouldn't fit in the dishwasher so that we can do it now," she says before pushing the button to start the dishwasher.

**LIVING ROOM**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

I sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch to be closer to their level and, to show our solidarity on the announcement and for Mac to offer me moral support, she's taken a seat next to me.

Ty is sitting to my left and Sami to my right. Abigail is in the middle, holding on to Sami's hand.

Before I begin, I mentally make the observation that the three of them have very intense looks on their faces, one that I'd say makes them look more like they're awaiting sentencing than simply gathered for a family announcement.

"Did Momma tell you why she wanted you to come in here this morning?" I ask. I didn't want to just blurt out the news, but I'm also not sure how to "warm up" to it.

"Yes, she said that you had something that you wanted to tell us..." Ty begins, reaching to hold Abigail's hand "...but we already know. We aren't going to be a family anymore," he says with tears threatening to fall.

My heart sinks into my stomach.

"Where did you get an idea like that?" I exclaim, my stomach churning.

"Abigail went to the kitchen this morning to find out what we were having for breakfast, and she heard Momma tell Gee Gee that you're leaving us. She told Sami and then they told me," Ty explains.

Suddenly, their anger at me this morning makes senses and, though I'd love to know what Mac was discussing with my grandmother that caused them to think that I'm leaving them, it's more important at the moment to put my children's fears to rest.

"I'm not leaving you. I just got new orders, and we need to move," I state firmly and to the point.

"Abigail heard only part of the conversation. What I was explaining to Gee Gee this morning is that your dad wanted to do what was best for his family, and he'd thought about leaving us here while he went away to work so that you wouldn't miss your school or your friends, but not that your dad was leaving us and breaking up our family," Mac explains.

I quickly speak up to add to Mac's explanation.

"But Momma told me that she was sure that you'd rather come with me, so we called you all in here to tell you that we're moving - all of us."

"Well, not me. I'm going home to Pennsylvania," my grandmother corrects.

"What about Cocoa?" Abigail asks.

"She belongs to you children now, so she's going with you," my grandmother answers Abigail.

"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" Ty asks.

"What about Grandma and Grandpa?" Frank asks from the doorway with my mother standing at his side.

"We want to know if you moving, too," Sami replies, getting down from the couch to run and greet them.

"Moving?" My mother, obviously taken by surprise, asks in a voice about four octaves higher than her normal tone.

"I planned to tell you later today," I begin, scrambling to get to my feet. "I know where my next duty station is and when I have to report," I explain to her.

"Where?" she asks, her tone back to normal.

"I'll be working at the Pentagon and reporting directly to the Secretary of the Navy ..." I let my voice trial off because my mother is looking a little pale.

"So, back to the East Coast, the DC area ...when?" she chokes out.

"I report February 4th, but Mac and the kids may be here a little longer. We haven't worked out a timeline for moving the family yet."

She turns to my stepfather. "Frank, take me home."

"But we came to see Mattie off," Frank says.

My mother looks at Mattie. "I'm sorry, dear. You understand. I just can't stay right now," she says before pulling Mattie into a hug.

"It's okay. I'll see you again soon," Mattie says to her while they're embracing.

"I'm sure you will," my mother says before turning to head towards the front door.

"Let me run your grandma home. I'll be back in a few minutes, Mattie," Frank says hurriedly.

Mattie nods, and Frank is quickly on his way to catch up with my mother.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2145**

Once I'd returned from taking Mattie and Tom to the airport, the rest of the day was filled with Sunday activities like playing games with the children. However, there was a cloud of sadness over the day because of Mattie's departure and the fact that my mother had left the house this morning so upset.

As Mac and I move about our bedroom, readying for bed, my thoughts are on my mother, or, more precisely, her reaction to the news of my transfer.

"What do you think upset my mother the most: the way that she found out that we're moving or the fact that we're moving?"

"I think it's the latter," Mac answers.

"Do you think that she'll ever speak to me again?" I ask, slipping into bed.

"Once she has time to let the news sink in, she'll speak to you again." Her tone seems certain.

"Do you think that it'll happen before we leave?" I ask as she slips into bed.

"I think that the reality that she'll be on the opposite coast from her grandchildren was just a little overwhelming for her. I also think that it won't take her too long before she comes to terms with the news, and she'll want to spend as much time with her grandchildren as she can while they're still here."

"You're probably right. She's a smart woman. She knows that I'm not trying to hurt her by taking them away. She was married to a Navy man once. She knows that orders are orders and that I have to go, and she knows that I love my family and want them to come with me," I rationalize.

I decide that, if my mother hasn't come by in a couple of days, I'll stop by to see her. I can remind her that I'm only following orders.

Feeling better about the situation with my mom, I think that I might be able to go to sleep now.

"Thanks for the pep talk. Good night, Mac," I say before applying a quick kiss to her lips.

Mac lays her head on my chest after our lips part. "Good night," she replies as I settle my arm around her shoulders.


	71. Chapter 71

**EPILOGUE **

**MONDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2008**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**INSIDE THE PENTAGON**

**0830**

**HARM'S POV**

My new office is an expansive space with room for the oak conference table and ten wooden chairs around it to the right side, while to the left of my big mahogany desk is a small sitting area in front of a fireplace with cabinets on either side. The bar hidden behind the cabinet doors on the right side of the fireplace is a bit 'over the top' even for this lavish room. However, my mind isn't on the size of my office or the meeting that will begin in about thirty minutes at that conference table.

This morning, my mind has been thinking back over the last five weeks.

Mac was right. On Monday, just over twenty-four hours after she'd left our home in such a hurry after hearing the news that we would be moving, my mother called to ask that my family and I come to her home for dinner the following evening.

When I arrived at the house for dinner on that Wednesday evening after work, my mother greeted me with a big hug and apologized for her handling the news so poorly, especially in front of the children.

In the four weeks after our "make up" dinner with my parents, Mac and I agreed to let my parents spend as much time with the children as they wanted, even to the point where we indulged my parents by letting them take Ty, Abigail and Sami on a shopping spree one Saturday without saying a word when they returned with so much stuff that we thought that it was Christmas again.

It wasn't until we were packing in the final week that Mac and I wondered if the extra time with their grandparents would actually make the transition of going from seeing them so often to seeing them a few times a year, at best, harder or easier for our children, my parents, too, for that matter.

My grandmother was torn between staying with us until the last minute or returning to Pennsylvania immediately 'to be out of the way,' as she put it. It didn't take much for Mac to convince her that staying to help her with packing and the children was best. I think that she really wanted to stay for as long as possible, if you ask me.

My grandmother left just three days before we left town. She called the night that she arrived at home to tell us that she'd arrived safely, but sounding very tired. However, the next evening she called to tell us that she already missed all of us and the weather in La Jolla. She also informed the children that she hoped to visit soon, and even mentioned coming around Ty's birthday at the end of March if we were settled in, but that we'd talk about it again after we'd actually moved.

The move itself was uneventful, and I reported to the SecNav on the 4th of February at 0900, as ordered.

Just two days later, Frank called to tell us that he'd found someone to rent our home in La Jolla and that they were moving in the first of March.

I've been on the job for a week now and, with Valentine's Day just three days away, I miss how close my parents were in San Diego.

If my parents were still close by, I'd call them to either stay with the children or for the children to stay with them while I took Mac out for the evening or maybe on a romantic getaway for the weekend.

If I'm daydreaming about the perfect way to spend Valentine's Day, I might as well dream big and think of a weekend away - just me and my girl.

I don't get far in my little fantasy planning because I'm still debating on whether it would be more romantic to whisk Mac away for a night at a nearby bed and breakfast or to take her to the Bahamas where we spent our honeymoon.

I'm thinking that the latter would be the perfect way to celebrate our love this Valentine's Day just as the first member of my team arrives for the meeting.

"Commander Roberts, you're very early this morning."

"Yes, Sir. It's just so good to be working with you again, Captain Rabb, that I can't wait to get to work..." Bud says with his patented goofy grin and jovial tone. "...that and the fact that I had some personal business to discuss with you." I raise an eyebrow questioningly. "Harriet wanted me to ask if you and the colonel, the children, too, of course, would come to dinner next week."

"Are you sure that you want the whole group in your house? You know that, between the two of us, our young ones leave us one shy of a baseball team," I say with a grin.

"The more the merrier...but if you don't think that your family has been here long enough yet to be ready for a social outing, we'd certainly understand," Bud offers in response.

"Did Harriet have a particular day next week in mind?" I ask.

"Whatever's convenient for you. Harriet's just missed the colonel and is looking forward to seeing her as soon as she can, but she wants to be sure that you've had time to settle in," Bud answers.

"Bud, you do realize that the colonel is retired. You'd better practice calling her Mac," I say with a chuckle. "As far as dinner next week goes, I'll talk to Mac tonight about it. She's missed Harriet, too, so I'm sure that she'd like to come over, but I'll make sure that next week is good for us."

I start to let the friendly conversation fade away, but it occurs to me that Bud has been married with children for a lot longer than I have, so maybe he can help with my Valentine's Day plans.

"Bud, before anyone else gets here, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, Sir. What's your question?" Bud responds happily.

"Do you have anything planned for Harriet on Thursday? You know, for Valentine's Day."

"Nothing special, really. I'm just taking her to a nice dinner." He pauses for a moment. "Of course, with four kids, any time that Harriet and I can go out when it's just the two of us is special, I guess. Trying to come up with an idea for you and the colonel, Sir?"

"Yeah, I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I could get Mac to leave Matthew with anyone who she doesn't know, and Abigail isn't comfortable around strangers, so, without a babysitter, I can't think of anything special to do...maybe your dinner idea will work. I'll just take the whole family instead of just Mac."

"Doesn't sound like a very romantic evening with the children along, but since you've been in town for such a short time, it may be your best bet."

"Thanks, Bud. I'll keep thinking on it. Maybe I'll come up with something." I pause for a heartbeat. "I guess we should look like we've been working when the others get here, so tell me what you know about the topic of today's meeting."

**THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2008**

**RABB FAMILY**

**DIPLOMAT HOUSING**

**1710**

As my driver - one of the perks of my current position - pulls up in front of our temporary home, I think about one of the other perks of working at the Pentagon - the house.

Instead of getting the usual transit lodging, which is basically a hotel room or a furnished apartment that serves as a temporary home while permanent housing is located, we're guests of the federal government in what is one of probably several furnished houses used by visiting foreign dignitaries and diplomats traveling with their families.

It's a nice place, but it doesn't feel like home.

Tonight, after we tuck in the children, I'll talk to Mac about not waiting for an opening in military housing and looking for some place to move into soon. Even if we rent a place, having our own things will make it feel more like home.

The driver opens the door for me and, after I get out, I reach back inside to grab my briefcase and the two items that I brought home for Mac this evening.

I dismiss my driver and take the first step up the sidewalk towards the front door, thinking that I wanted to do something more romantic, something more original for today, but with the children to consider, I made reservations to take the whole family out for a nice dinner, and I've got the old tried and true bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates in one hand and my briefcase in the other as I walk up the sidewalk and approach the front door.

I'm almost to the door when I think about the greeting that I've been getting each night when I come home, and the corners of my mouth start to turn up in a smile.

I'd been so worried about how Abigail would handle the move. It may be too early to tell for sure, but it would seem that I was worried for nothing. The move hasn't seemed to have any adverse effects on her.

In fact, the move may have been beneficial to my relationship with her. Since we've been here, when I come home from work, she greets me with a "Hi, Daddy," along with Ty and Sami. It's the only time that she calls me Daddy all day, but it's the best part of coming home each night.

I'm surprised when I open the door and, instead of the three children who I was expecting, Mac is there.

I quickly tuck my left hand behind my back to hide Mac's "gifts" before I step inside the house.

I didn't tell her about taking her to dinner, so her greeting me at the door and looking like she's ready to go out for the evening adds to my surprise.

"Good evening, Harm," she says, giving me a little kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"

"Fine. You look incredibly beautiful. Do you have a date?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"I hope so. It's Valentine's Day," she says, her eyes capturing mine until I've almost forgotten about the flowers and candy.

"I know that it's Valentine's Day. I bought these for you," I say, pulling my hand from behind my back.

"Thank you," she says with a little blush.

I break eye contact.

"It isn't the Valentine's Day that I'd normally plan, but since we don't have a babysitter for the children this year, I thought that I'd take the whole family to dinner tonight."

"So, if we had a babysitter, you'd be my date?" she asks coyly, and I get the feeling that she knows something that I don't.

"I would," I reply.

"Then go change while I put these flowers in water so we can leave," she says with a sexy smile.

"Who did you get to sit with the children?" I ask, hoping that Bud didn't break his date with Harriet to sit with our kids.

Mac reaches for my hand. "I'll show you," she says, leading me to the living room where I see my children listening to a story that my mother is reading to them.

"Hey, son, you don't want to keep your lovely wife waiting. If you don't hurry, the limo will have to wait for you and you'll be late for the dinner reservations that we made for you and Mac," Frank says.

"Dinner reservations where?" I ask, confused by their surprise visit.

"At the Chateau Neville ... then the driver will take you and Mac to the Plaza Hotel," Frank explains.

I look at Mac.

"Frank said that they missed the children, and he couldn't think of a better Valentine's gift for your mother than to give her time with her grandchildren, so here they are to babysit while we get to enjoy a romantic dinner and a night away from home."

"Yes, so go. Have a good time, Son," Frank says.

"Well, that sounds like an order to me -" I say.

"And orders are orders," Mac finishes for me.

"Give me ten minutes, and I'll be ready to go," I say before turning to go change for the romantic evening with my wife.

**PLAZA HOTEL**

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

Mac's in the bathroom, changing into something 'more comfortable'.

I'm digging frantically through the overnight bag that Mac packed before I arrived at the house and don't hear Mac come into the room.

"What are you looking for?" she asks with a chuckle.

"I didn't think to ask you, but I can't find any condoms in here," I answer before turning to see her in a white satin gown with a slit up to her thigh, which shows off her shapely leg.

"I knew that I was forgetting something," she says in a seductively husky voice. "But if you like what you see, I wouldn't worry about it. We didn't use one on Christmas or New Year's and nothing happened...but it's your choice," she says, stepping forward so that more of her thigh is exposed. "You can have me right now or you can go buy condoms."


	72. Chapter 72

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - THINGS HAPPEN IN THREES**

**PROLOGUE**

**WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY ****20, ****2008**

**ROBERTS' HOME**

**KITCHEN**

**AFTER DINNER**

**MAC'S POV**

"Harriet, I should apologize for eating so much, but everything was so delicious that I couldn't help myself," I say as I carry in some dishes from the dining room.

"There's no need for an apology because it thrills me to know that you enjoyed your meal...but I do hope that you saved some room for dessert," she responds with a cheerful smile.

"I ate so much that, not only should I not eat dessert, I shouldn't eat again for at least two days. I have to stay in shape so that I can keep up with four kids and still have the energy to chase after Harm," I say with a chuckle.

"Well, in that case, I won't force dessert on you ... but I did bake the pies myself," Harriet says over her shoulder as she starts to brew a pot of coffee to go with the pie.

"I sure hate to pass up the opportunity to have a slice of one of your homemade pies," I say with a sigh.

"Well, maybe by the time the coffee is ready, your dinner will have settled enough that you'll have room for a small slice." She turns around. "There's also no rule that says that I can't send a pie home with you."

"Harriet, that isn't necessary," I say to her thoughtful gesture.

"Maybe it isn't necessary, but it certainly guarantees me that I'll get to see you again soon so that I can get my pie plate back," she says with an almost pleading smile. "I've missed you," she adds shyly, a tone not usually associated with Harriet.

"To save my figure, we could just make plans now to see each other again. In fact, I know the perfect reason why we could see a lot of each other if you have time to help me with something."

"I like the sound of it already...tell me more. What do you need help with?" she asks excitedly.

"With Harm's parents in town all weekend, Harm and I had time alone to talk about a few things while they got time with their grandchildren. One of the things that we discussed was not waiting for military housing to become available. We decided to try to find a rental home instead...which really means me since he's working. I could really use some help in sorting through possibilities and someone to tag along to check out a few of them so that I can get the choices narrowed down to a handful. Then I can take Harm and the kids to see just those. I mean, if you have time, because I can tell you that I now know how time consuming having four kids can be, but I'd love to have the help and the company," I say with a chuckle.

"I'd love to help out, but are you sure that you want to invest the time in searching for a rental? I would think that the wait for a captain to get housing wouldn't be very long."

"I know that it might seem like we're throwing in the towel on military housing too soon." I move closer to her so that no one can overhear what I'm about to say. We don't view our children any differently, yet, at times like these, the fact that most of them are adopted is a point of consideration. "Since three of our children are adopted, two of them recently..." I whisper for added discretion. "...Harm and I think that it's in their best interest to get them into a place where they can have all of their things and sleep in their own beds. We want them to feel like it's their new home and not some temporary place from which they can be uprooted at any moment."

"I didn't think about it from that angle, but now that you've pointed it out to me, I can see why it's important to get them settled in as soon as possible," Harriet says thoughtfully.

"Then you'll help?" I ask excitedly.

"I'm in. When do you want to get started?" she asks enthusiastically.

"The sooner the better," I reply.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**DIPLOMAT HOUSING**

**BEDTIME**

**HARM'S POV**

"You and Harriet couldn't seem to stay out of the kitchen before or after dinner, and since cooking isn't at the top of your list of favorite things to do, I don't believe you were in there exchanging recipes. So what were the two of you talking about that was so secret that you couldn't talk about it in front of Bud and me?" I ask curiously as we pull down the comforter, preparing to get into bed.

"We talked about how much I missed her cooking," she states with a grin.

"You did stuff yourself tonight," I say teasingly.

"I know. It was just so good and I was so hungry," she agrees before changing to the subjects of her and Harriet's discussion. "Of course, we talked about our children and showed off our latest pictures," she says as she pulls the bedcovers up over herself.

"Yeah, Bud and I looked at each other's pictures and exchanged a few dad stories while you were in with Harriet," I reply.

"I recruited her to help me look for a rental home," she informs me.

"That kind of task is right up Harriet's alley, and having two people on the job may help expedite the process. I know that part of the reason why we agreed to find a place to rent was because we wanted to get the children into a place where they had their own things, but I think that it's even more important for Abigail. Did you see the way that she was eyeing the Roberts' piano? I think she really misses her lessons, and when we get them into a place with their things, she'll at least have her keyboard to play while we find a new piano teacher for her," I state, more or less mulling over my thoughts out loud.

"I'm glad to hear that you noticed Abigail's reaction to the piano because Harriet noticed her interest, too. When I explained that her father had played and that Abigail had been taking lessons, Harriet offered to speak with AJ's teacher to see if she's able to take on another student at this time. If she is available, Harriet volunteered the use of their piano for Abigail's lessons for now," she informs me.

"That was nice of Harriet," I say sincerely.

"Yeah, I've missed having someone who understands military life, and now that we both have children, some around the same age, we have even more in common, and I'm really glad to be back here where I can spend some time with her again," she says as she settles against my side to snuggle in for the night.

"I know what you mean. There's something comforting about being able to talk to someone who knows the ropes, so to speak, and can sympathize with your problems from firsthand experience," I say, acknowledging the need to have someone to whom you can relate and who can relate to you.

"Have you been discussing your problems with Bud?" she questions.

"No, I talk about problems with you, but there was one situation, I guess you'd call it, when I thought that Bud could help me with something because I was sure that he'd been in the same boat," I reply, sending her eyebrow up questioningly, and I know that I have to give her a more complete answer or she'll be grilling me about it all night. "Since we have children now, and I wanted to do something with only you for Valentine's Day, I asked Bud how he and Harriet were going to celebrate to give me an idea of how I could romance you that evening. He wasn't very helpful, though. He told me that they arranged for a sitter every year and went out to a nice dinner at one of the better restaurants, one that required reservations. However, since they've had part-time help with the children since the twins came, that wasn't going to work for me. Remember, I didn't know that my parents were here until I got home that night."

"It's funny that you asked Bud about his Valentine's Day plans, because how we spent our Valentine's Day is something else that Harriet and I talked about this evening, and she was very jealous."

"You told Harriet about our night together?" I ask, seeking conformation and shocked that she'd be so open about sharing news about our love life.

"Not exactly," she says as she looks me in the eye with a mischievous glint visible in hers.

"You know that she's going to tell Bud. Come on, Mac. I work with the guy. What exactly did you say to her?"

She lays her head on my chest while giggling in that 'I got you' kind of way before answering my question.

"I told her that, even though we'd been gone from La Jolla for only three weeks and even though Frank can afford to take your mother to any five-star restaurant or on a trip to Europe as a gift, he brought her here to see her grandchildren because he knew that it was the one thing that she'd love this year, which, though Harriet loves Bud and enjoys their romantic evening out each year, she was jealous that Frank had put so much thought into your mother's gift. Then I told her that it was a gift for us too because it allowed you and me to go out on the town for a wonderful evening without worrying if the children were okay. I also told her that I was sure that whatever you had planned to do before your parents showed up would've been nice, too. Though, between you and me, I'm not sure that the evening would've turned out quite the same if they hadn't shown up."

"Oh, I think it would have...you couldn't keep your hands off of me," I say teasingly.

She lifts her head and protests, "That isn't the way I remember it. As I recall, we'd had a wonderful dinner. Then you took me to The One Step Down where we listened to music and danced a few times before you took me to the Plaza Hotel. When I was trying to show you the new nightgown that I'd bought, which you couldn't possibly have even taken a really good look at because I'd had it on for only thirty seconds before it was lying on the floor and you were carrying me to bed to have your way with me, you didn't say a word. So I don't think that you could keep your hands off of me either."

"Thirty seconds...are you sure that's how long it took me?" I ask with a grin.

"Technically, it was thirty-one. Why?" she asks curiously.

"I must be losing my touch...or maybe married life has slowed me down. I should've been able to have it on the floor in under ten," I say before rolling over and taking her with me until I've positioned myself over her. "I guess that means that I need to practice," I say with a full flyboy smile.

"Well, I'm all for practicing," she purrs as my mouth descends on hers.


	73. Chapter 73

**PART ONE**

**FRIDAY, MARCH 14, 2008**

**MASTER BATHROOM**

**TEMPORARY RABB HOME **

**0640**

**HARM'S POV**

I hear Mac's voice over the water, but I can't make out what she's saying, so I crack open the shower enclosure door a little.

"You know that you don't need an invitation to join me, but if you want one..." I say, poking my head out of the shower, but once my head is out far enough that I have a clear view of Mac, I know that showering with me isn't on her mind because she has Matthew in her arms and a look of distress on her face.

"What's wrong, Mac?" I ask innocently.

"I don't know...maybe it's the fact that I still need to make breakfast, I have two children to get off to school and I'm in charge of moving day, which is today. If that isn't enough - this is the morning that your son decided to fill his diaper so badly that he needs a bath ... let me know when you're out of the shower so that I can bathe him."

I can't believe that she said all that in one breath ... one agitated breath.

I don't let her catch a second wind before speaking. "Strip him down and pass him to me. He can shower with me, freeing you up to wake the kids," I say before she cuts me off.

"Really?" she says like a question.

"Yes," I respond, and I can see the tension leave her face before she turns her attention to Matthew, stripping him out of his messy sleepwear.

"While I'm washing up the little one, you can wake up the other kids, and then, when I'm done in here, I'll make breakfast," I offer.

"I don't think you'll have time for that," she responds with a sigh.

"If I still had a driver, maybe not, but that's why I ditched the driver service a few weeks ago...remember?"

When I don't hear any response from her, I speak again.

"You and Harriet wanted to get an early start on looking at a couple of places, but because of the schedule with a driver, I couldn't take the kids to school, so you had to wait until after you got them to school before you could begin. It was that same morning that I requested that the car service be stopped because I wanted to be able to take my kids to school occasionally. It was also the day that I requested two spots, one for Sami and one for Matthew in the Pentagon's daycare program two days a week so that you'd have time for you," I remind her.

Mac turns around. "I don't think that I've ever really thanked you for that, either," she says as her outstretched arms offer me our smelly son.

"Maybe tonight you could correct that by thanking me in our bed," I say, raising an eyebrow while taking Matthew from her.

She rolls her eyes at my suggestion.

"Today is moving day, Harm. I doubt that I'll have the energy to 'thank you' tonight, but we'll see," she says, shaking her head. "I'm going to go get the kids up and tell them that their daddy is taking them to school this morning," she adds before pushing the shower door closed.

"I don't think that Mommy finds Daddy very funny this morning, but that's okay. Daddy will win her over later. Now, my boy, you're almost five months old. I think it's time that you were introduced to the manly way to wash up. It's called a shower," I say to Matthew before holding him up and letting the shower spray over his backside.

I was almost through with my shower when Mac entered the bathroom with Matthew, so within five minutes, I'm stepping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom with Matthew wrapped in a towel.

"I'm glad that I closed the bedroom door when I heard the water stop running," Mac says with a grin from her sitting position on the bed.

I'm sure that she's referring to the fact that, since I had no place to safely put down Matthew in the bathroom, I've exited the bathroom with a towel over my shoulder to dry myself after I've placed our towel-wrapped son down in the center of the bed, meaning that I'm bare.

"I was sure that the door would be closed. I know that you prefer a private show," I say with a grin as I move Matthew a little more to one side so that she gets a good eye full.

She's moving towards me. "Your daddy thinks that he's funny this morning, Matthew," she says before taking him from my arms and eyeing my exposed form from top to bottom. "I'll give him that he is easy on the eyes," she says with a leer before giving me a quick morning kiss.

After her lips leave mine, she turns her attention back to Matthew.

Knowing that my body no longer has her interest, I pull the towel off my shoulder and begin to dry myself while listening to her talk to our son.

"You were so messy this morning that I didn't feed you," she says as she starts to use the towel wrapped around him to dry him off. "I thought that I'd come in here to feed you and get you dressed so that Daddy can get into the kitchen and start the breakfast that he volunteered to make this morning."

As I dry off, I watch Mac finish drying our son and put a diaper on him. Then I spot the outfit that she's picked out for him to wear today laying on the bed near his head.

After I finish drying myself, I put on some sweatpants and an undershirt, leaving Mac to tend to Matthew's needs while I head to the kitchen to start breakfast that, as it turns out by a unanimous vote by the children, will be pancakes.

**KITCHEN**

**AFTER BREAKFAST**

I've returned from getting my jacket to my blues out of our room and I stop next to Matthew's swing at the edge of the dining room where we can clearly see Mac at the kitchen sink.

I slip on my jacket while watching her rinse the last of the breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

Forgoing buttoning my jacket for the moment, I move to her, wrap my arms around her from behind and whisper in her ear, "I love you."

She turns in my arms, and water droplets make spots on my white shirt as she places her palms on my chest.

"I wish that I could be there to help you with the move, but the meetings that were scheduled for today involve more than just members of my team, and it couldn't be rescheduled," I say to her as she rests her head on her hands, which are still on my chest.

She lifts her head up to look at me.

"I know that you'd help if you could." She lets out a sigh before continuing, "We both know that the military way doesn't always mean that a spouse gets any help with a move. So I 'm thankful that you're here to help in any way that you can, and it's a big help that you're taking the two older ones to school and the two younger ones to daycare today. Thank you."

"You're welcome...and, if I can get away for lunch, maybe I'll be able to bring you something to eat."

"If you have time, that would be nice," she replies before giving my lips a peck.

"I know that Harriet's going to help you, but you look tired, so just focus on the movers getting the stuff into the house without breaking anything and, if you have time between the time they leave and when you have to pick up Ty and Abigail from school, stretch out on the couch and take a nap."

"That isn't going to get the stuff out of the boxes, Harm."

"No, but we can all help you unpack over the weekend. It'll be fun. What do you say?" I say with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

"But you took most of our clothing and things to the new place last night because we agreed that we'd stay at the new place tonight. We won't be able to cook dinner there if I don't unpack some pots and pans ... and what about getting the children's beds ready for them to sleep in tonight?" she says in a way that indicates that she's exasperated with me.

I move my hands up to cup her face.

"We can order a pizza or I'll bring home some take out. As far as beds go, we'll camp out in the living room. Just do the basics today, please, and let me help you with the rest this weekend."

I get a nod of agreement from her.

I lean in to kiss her, but our lips barely touch when we hear Ty fake a cough to interrupt politely before he says, "Dad, we're ready to go to school."

I pull away from Mac and turn to face Ty, but find the smiling faces of all three children, four if you count the silly expression on Matthew's face as a smile.

"Then go get your coats on while I get Matthew bundled up and meet me at the usual spot."

"One thing first..." Mac says, stepping towards the children "...a hug and kiss from Momma before you go."

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**LVING ROOM**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**0845**

**MAC'S POV**

"You know, Harriet, waiting for them wouldn't be so bad if the clothes that we brought over from the temporary place last night and the last load that I brought over in the van this morning could be unpacked, giving us something to do while we wait...but we can't unpack anything from the suitcases until the movers get here with the dressers." I let out an sigh. "We don't both have to wait here. You're only a few blocks away now. Why don't you go home? I'll call you when they get here, and you can head over as soon as you can get away."

"I don't mind waiting with you..." Harriet quickly adds, "...unless you just want some quiet time for yourself, Ma'am."

"I'd love for you to stay and keep me company, but since I don't even have a chair to offer you so that we can sit comfortably until the movers get here, I don't want you to be hanging around here when you probably have a dozen better things to do with your time. You've been so supportive since we got here by helping out with everything from filling in for the lack of nursery items in the furnished house by loaning us a portable crib and swing for Matthew, and opening up your home and letting Abigail use your piano for her lessons for the past month to helping me find this place. I just don't want to take any more of your time, especially when they're already fifteen minutes late and I have no idea how much longer it's going to be before they get here."

"It isn't often after you have children that you get this much peace and quiet to sit and talk with a friend. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay. I brought a thermos of coffee. I can go to my van and get it. We can sit on the hearth in front of the fireplace and just talk until they get here."

"You go to the van and bring in the coffee, and I'll give the moving company a call to see if they have any idea when the moving truck will be here," I say to Harriet.

**0848**

The door is standing open, and Harriet walks in with something flat under one arm and a thermos and a couple of Styrofoam cups in her hand as I flip closed my cellphone.

"Any luck on getting an ETA, Ma'am?"

"No, the dispatcher said that she can't get them on the radio. She'll keep trying and call me back when she can give me some idea about where our truck is or what time it'll get here."

"Well, I had better luck, Ma'am," she says before taking her free hand and pulling the flat items from under her arm. "I had these two stadium cushions in the back of the van. They aren't very thick, but they should make sitting on the hearth a little softer for our sixes while we drink our coffee and wait for them to get here."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Harriet," I sigh while taking the cushions from her and moving to place them on the stone hearth.

A couple of moments later, Harriet and I are sitting on our stadium cushions, drinking coffee and engaging in casual conversation about our children.

The friendly talk continues until my cell phone rings at 0852. It's the moving company dispatcher who's calling back.

The call lasts all of forty-three seconds, and I flip the phone closed, making the two sides click together. It's the closest thing to being able to slam down the receiver that I can accomplish with my cellphone.

"Not good news, Ma'am?"

"It seems that the driver was in the ER until very late last night getting some stitches after a minor household accident and he overslept. However, he's on his way now, but since he got a late start, he's run into heavy traffic. They'll be here as soon as they possibly can."

"You know, I heard on Oprah or maybe it was Dr. Phil...or, well, it doesn't matter...but on a show they said that moving ranks up there with the death of a loved one and going through a divorce as the top things that cause stress to the body at such high levels that it can have a wide variety of health related problems. Weight gain or loss, severe headaches and fatigue are some of the ones that I can remember being mentioned."

"I've been tired for the last couple of weeks...from around the time that we signed a lease on this place, and right now, I have a terrible headache," I say with a chuckle.

I look over at Harriet and say slightly more seriously, but still tongue-in-cheek. "You know, my grandmother used to say that big things happen in threes. I wonder if moving across country and from the temporary house to here is one and two things or if it's just one thing with two parts."

"I hope that it's two so that you have only one more to go if your grandmother was right."

"Yeah, let's hope that's how it goes," I respond with a smile before changing the subject.

"Harriet, we usually talk about our kids, but I've been meaning to ask about Bud. How's he doing?"

"He still experiences some pain when he tries to do too much, but over all, he's good, thank God."

"How are you doing, Harriet?"

"I have a good man, a strong marriage, four healthy children and you're back here. I'm wonderful, but thanks for asking," she answers with a happy smile.

"So, tell me, Harriet, we spent the last couple of weeks in February looking for a rental home for Harm and me to move into with the kids..." I lose my train of thought when I see the odd expression on Harriet's face. "What, Harriet?"

"Nothing, Ma'am," she says with a smirk on her face.

"No, what is it, Harriet?" I ask her again.

"It's just ..." she starts out hesitantly. "It's just strange to hear you say 'you and Harm'... that you're together...and with children," she explains.

"What's strange about it?" I ask, a little put off by her reaction to my happiness. "You don't think that Harm and I should be together?"

"No, that isn't it," Harriet begins, but pauses for a heartbeat before asking, "Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?"

"Harriet, I'm retired. We're friends. There's no need for you to call me ma'am. I'm just Mac now, and you certainly don't need to ask my permission to answer a question that I asked you," I reply, concerned that I may not want to hear what she has to say if she feels the need to ask for permission to speak her mind.

"The two of you make a striking couple, and I've never seen either one of you happier."

"But..." I say, egging her on to finish her thought.

"I guess it has more to do with Harm. He was a bachelor for so long that I have a hard time thinking of him as a married man. Even though Bud and I were at McMurphy's when you announced your engagement and we were members of the wedding party, it still seems like a dream," she answers.

"I can see how it might feel like that to you. In the weeks, actually months after we announced our engagement that night, I woke up thinking that I'd dreamed the proposal and announcement. I think a lot of that had to do with how soon he was off to London after we told everyone, and I didn't have any memories of time spent with him as my boyfriend. Since we hadn't really dated, I had no dating memories. It's probably similar for you. Since Harm and I didn't have a chance to do things with you and Bud as a couple, there aren't any 'couple moments' to make it feel more real to you. So I can understand why it's hard to believe that Harm and I are married and have four children. Sometimes I can hardly believe it myself," I say with a laugh.

"You explained it perfectly," Harriet says with a sigh of relief that I understand things from her perspective.

"You know what really surprises me about Harm as a married man?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that?" Harriet asks with a slight blush.

I don't know what she thinks that I'm going to say, but there's no reason for her to blush.

"He's pretty good at it...being a husband I mean." I sigh. "I'd seen Harm interact with children over the years, and something about watching him with them spoke to me. I knew that he'd be a good father, but I wasn't sure that he was good husband material. However, I've been pleasantly surprised." I look at Harriet with a giddy school girl grin on my face, but I don't care. I'm crazy about my sailor and I don't care who knows it. "Not only does he do things that I hear some husbands don't, like remember my birthday, Valentine's Day and our anniversary, but he does thoughtful things for me quite often. Sometimes they're things that I hadn't even thought about. For instance, the agent was offering to let us move into this place on the fifteenth, but Harm talked the guy into giving us the keys yesterday so that we could have the movers come today. Outside the agent's office, I asked Harm why he was willing to risk losing a place that we all loved over a couple of days. He told me that he reasoned that, if we didn't get the keys until the fifteenth, we wouldn't be able to get the movers here until Monday, the start of spring break for our school age children, and since he couldn't get time off to help me, he thought that getting the movers here today would make it easier on me. He was right, too. Even with the two youngest at daycare, I can't image sitting here waiting while trying to keep a seven and eight year old occupied. I already hate that I've got to keep Cocoa outside in the cold until they've finished moving in our stuff. I'm going to call the moving company again," I say before reaching for my cellphone.

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**THE PENTAGON**

**1040**

**HARM'S POV**

The first meeting has concluded, and I pull out my cellphone and push the button to power it up. I want to try to call Mac before I have to be in the SecNav's office for my second meeting of the day.

When my cellphone finally powers up, I hear the beep that indicates that I have a new voice mail.

I push the button to hear it.

"Hey, Sailor, I just wanted to give you the news. The moving truck just pulled up outside...an hour and seven minutes late, but they're here now. I don't think they'll be finished with unloading by lunchtime, so I'll be too busy to take a lunch break with you. So, I'll see you tonight. Bye."

It's my only voicemail, and I quickly disconnect from it to dial Mac's number. However, after the fourth ring, her voicemail picks up.

"Hey, I got your message. You must be busy with the movers. You know what skipping a meal does to you, Marine. You need to eat something, even if we can't sit down over a cardboard box and eat together, so I'll bring you something. I'm headed to the SecNav's office now for a meeting, so if you get this message and have an idea of what I can bring you for lunch, leave your order on my voice mail...if you don't call, I'll wing it. I'll see you for lunch in a bit. Bye."

**1130**

After making my way back to my office, I pull my cellphone from my desk drawer and look to see if I've got any new messages.

I've got a text message from Mattie. I open my phone and depress the button to view my text messages.

(Harm, is it okay if I come on Saturday and stay there for spring break? I can help unpack!)

I smile. I'm sure that her wanting to help unpack could be more accurately stated as, 'I want to set up my bedroom myself.'

I text her back.

(I'll check with Mac at lunch to see if she had plans to rent out your room this weekend - just kidding. Sure you can come. I'll call you later when I know that you're out of class to verify the new address.)

After seeing the 'sent successful' screen, I then push the button, taking me out of the text messaging application to check to see if I had a voicemail come in before the text message.

I do have a voice mail, so I push the button to connect me to that function and soon I'm listening to her voice.

"Harriet and I have a good rhythm going...she's checking off the items as they bring the stuff in the door, and I'm directing them to the correct room. They arrived late, but they're doing double time to get back on schedule. Because it occurred to me while Harriet and I were talking while we were waiting that I haven't indulged in even one Beltway Burger in the month that we've been back on this coast, I had this craving for the Beltway special...with extra ketchup and onions...cheese, of course ... fries... no, onion rings and a chocolate shake." I hear her chuckle before she says, "So, as far as lunch goes, just bring me something from wherever you eat because I can't see you going anywhere near Beltway Burger. Bye."

I flip the phone closed.

"If a Beltway Burger is what my wife wants ... her wish is my command," I say aloud to myself as I reach for my cover in preparation to head out for lunch.

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1210**

The moving van is still at the curb, and I have to pull around it to get into the driveway when I arrive with lunch and Bud in tow.

Harriet is at the front door with a clipboard, checking off the items before allowing the item to be carried into the house.

"Bud, what are you doing here?" Harriet squeals in delight.

"Captain Rabb asked if I wanted to tag along so that I could have lunch with my wife," he replies, lifting the large bag containing her salad. "I brought you a salad. I hope that's okay."

"That's fine," she says a little less enthusiastically. "Thank you, Sir," Harriet says to me before telling me, "Mac's inside...since the last couple of things that the movers carted in were marked 'master bedroom,' you might try there first."

"Thanks, Harriet...for helping out today, too."

"No problem, Sir."

"Harm, remember," I say, tilting my head.

"It's the uniform, Sir. I can't help it," Harriet responds.

I smile in understanding and head inside to find Mac.

As I approach the master bedroom door, I know that I'll find Mac in there because I hear her say, "The dresser goes here along this wall."

I enter the bedroom and see her.

She looks a little tired and harried, but lovely.

"Hey, Beautiful, you ready for lunch?" I ask from the doorway, trying to stay out of the way of the movers in the room.

"As a matter a fact, my appetite showed up about thirty minutes ago."

"Then sink your teeth into this," I say, raising the bag from Beltway Burger.

"You didn't...did you?" she asks, moving towards the bag as if she's been hypnotized by it. She gets close enough to put her hands on the bag. "You did ... you brought me a Beltway Burger," she says in a tone that sounds like a cross between amazement and delight.

"Beltway special cheeseburger with extra ketchup and onions, onion rings..." I say, releasing the bag into her custody. "...and..." I pull something from behind my back. "...a chocolate shake."

She looks like she's going to cry as she says, "Thank you," as she takes the shake from my hand.

"Anything to make you happy, Mrs. Rabb."

My words get me a smile, even though her eyes still look teary.

A booming voice comes from behind me. "Hey, guys, we're taking a short break for our lunch while the ladies eat theirs."

"Sure thing," the two men inside the master bedroom reply to the man, who I can only assume is their boss.

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

Harriet and I are waving goodbye to our husbands as they drive away after having brought us lunch.

When the car leaves our sight, Harriet turns to me and says, "Harm drove over here to bring you lunch. I'd say that you're right. He's a pretty good husband."

"Well, I'd say that you've got a good husband, too. Bud brought you lunch as well."

"Because your husband asked him to tag along ... I love Bud and I know that he loves me. Don't get me wrong. He's a good husband, but I do wish that, every once in a blue moon, he'd do something sweet and thoughtful like bring me flowers for no reason." She sighs before changing the subject by saying, "Are you ready to get back to work so that we can have everything in the house before it's time to go get the children from school?"

"Yes, let's get back to it."

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**2045**

We ordered pizza and used unfolded napkins as plates. Cups weren't necessary, thanks to the invention of the juice box.

Mac was exhausted and, not long after we'd put the leftover pizza into the refrigerator, she fell asleep on the couch.

I knew that she needed her rest, so I kept Ty and the girls entertained by asking them what they thought about living in Virginia so far.

The top answer on the good side was that they got to see Mattie more often, usually every weekend. The fenced-in backyard with a swing set to play on was a close second. On the downside, they missed seeing their grandparents almost every day. The girls having been born and raised in California were neutral on the snow factor. Ty was enthusiastic about telling them that what they'd seen of the white stuff since we've been here was nothing because it was almost spring, but that next winter they'd see that having snow to play in was fun.

When I told the kids that there was no bath time since we were 'camping out' and that we were going to sleep in our clothes in the living room, I got hoots and hollers of excitement in return, but even without the routine of bath and bedtime, Sami was curled up with Mac on the couch and asleep only fifteen minutes after her usual bedtime.

Abigail, Ty and I played many a game of 'Go Fish' before Abigail said that she was sleepy, but even without an enforced bedtime, she was asleep less than an hour past her usual bedtime.

Ty and Matthew are the only two still with me, but with everyone else asleep, it's time to be sure that the house is secure for the night.

I come back into the living room after having checked the doors and windows to make sure that we're safely locked in for the night to find that Ty has lost his battle with the sandman while I was locking up.

I move around the sleeping forms of Abigail and Ty to get to Matthew.

"You're my lone hold out on sleep, Pal," I say as I reach Matthew and start to lift him from the seat of the swing. "So I hope that you're ready to be changed and fed so that I can put you down for the night."

I get a coo in response.

"I'll take that as a yes," I say, moving carefully around to get to the supplies that I need to get Matthew ready for bed so that I can get some shut eye, too.


	74. Chapter 74

**PART TWO**

**SATURDAY, MARCH 15, 2008**

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA **

**0341**

**MAC'S POV**

I move carefully so as not to wake our sleeping three-year-old, who apparently thought that sleeping on the couch with me last night would be more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.

Once I'm standing, I lift my arms and stretch thoroughly while double checking my internal clock because it's hard for me to believe that I slept for a straight eight hours and thirteen minutes. It must have been what I needed, though, because I feel refreshed and ready to get to work.

Since the place is a rental, and repainting and decorating to suit each child's taste or interests isn't possible, I think that it'll be important to let them help unpack their things, hoping that, in doing so, they'll feel like it's really their room. So I decide to start in the one room where the occupant is too young to help and there's very little work to do since he hasn't accumulated much stuff in his short life - the nursery.

I enter the bedroom that we designated as the nursery when we toured the house and find that, at some point, Harm managed to put the crib together. It must have been after all the children were asleep because Matthew is sleeping in the portable crib in the living room. With only a few boxes to unpack and a crib to make, I should be able to finish this room in short order.

Feeling better than I have in a couple of weeks, I open the first box and get to work, wondering if my aching back and fatigue could really have been because of the move.

**0630**

**HARM'S POV**

A knock on the door disrupts my sleep, but having slept on the floor last night, my back is aching, and getting to my feet quickly isn't going to happen.

Since the couch is closer to the door, I figure that Mac will make it to the door before I can, but when I open my eyes and turn towards the couch, I discover that Mac is no longer asleep there. So I begin my struggle to get to my feet, wondering if Mac could be the person at the door. Perhaps she went out and forgot to take her key with her.

I look at my watch as I finally manage to get to my feet, 0630. 'Why would Mac have gone out so early?' I wonder as I take my first step towards the door.

As I take another careful step, I look around the room.

I'd say that the 'camp out' was a hit with the kids, I think, as I take an inventory of the number of small forms lying around the room to make sure that all of the children are still in the room since Mac is obviously up.

There's another knock on the door.

As I reach the door, sure that Mac is the only one not still in the living room, I take one last look around the room and shake my head. It isn't the first time since I got home yesterday that I've shaken my head in disbelief that we've accumulated so much stuff in such a short time that every room looks like this one: boxes stacked neatly along the wall, waiting to be unpacked.

I open the door and I'm greeted with a bright smile and cheery "Hi, Harm" before her arms wrap around me.

"Hi, Mattie," I reply while reciprocating her hug. "I'm surprised to see you so early this morning."

"I wanted to get an early start on unpacking," she says, pulling out of my embrace.

I see Kevin coming up the walk behind Mattie with his hands full, but before I can ask any questions, Mattie's already explaining.

"Kevin wanted to come to see if he could help with anything. I hope it's okay."

Kevin is close enough to us that he heard Mattie tell me why he's here, but he offers another reason why I should let him stay.

Looking down at the box that he's carrying in front of him, he says, "I brought breakfast...a variety of pastries and muffins."

Mattie turns around. "I'll take that so you can go back and get the coffee."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," he says, releasing the box to her.

"He's a nice guy," Mattie states with a sigh as Kevin dashes back to his car for the forgotten cups of coffee.

I'm not sure that she meant to say that out loud, but she did.

I may be saying the wrong thing, but I've put my foot in my mouth on more than one occasion, so I say what's on my mind.

"Yeah, he seems to be...and you know that he likes you," I say, stepping aside to allow her to enter the house.

"It isn't like that...we're just friends, Harm," she says, rolling her eyes as she walks past me.

I start to tell her that she'd better make sure that it's all he feels, but Kevin is approaching the door with a cardboard carrier holding four cups.

"Kevin, come on in," I say.

"Thank you, Sir," he says with a smile as he enters the house.

"Where's Mac?" Mattie asks as I close the door.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her yet this morning, but I'm sure that she's around here somewhere."

"Mattie!" Sami squeals from the couch, startling Matthew awake so that he begins to cry loudly, which, in turn, wakes Abigail and Ty with a start.

Mattie looks at me and mouths the word, "Sorry."

"It's okay. It was time for everyone to get up," I say, moving to calm the only one who can't get up without assistance, Matthew.

I pick up Matthew and put him against my chest, and his cries settle to a whimper.

However, he cried long enough that his cries reached Mac's ears, and I hear her call from the hall before she rushes into the room, "Harm, what's wrong with Matthew?"

"He's okay. Sami was just a little too enthusiastic in greeting Mattie, and it startled him, but now that he's awake, he's probably ready for a clean diaper and breakfast. I'll take care of the diaper part while you say hello and see if any of the treats that Kevin brought for breakfast strike your fancy."

"You brought breakfast?" Mac asks, eyeing Kevin while pulling Mattie in for a quick hug hello.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, it isn't much, just some pastries and muffins...and coffee, but I thought that you might not have the kitchen unpacked if you just moved in yesterday."

Kevin is almost stuttering because he's so nervous, and I find myself enjoying the interaction, so I don't leave the room with Matthew, opting to stay and watch what happens next.

"Well, thank you. That's very thoughtful of you, but I hope that you didn't put off some spring break adventure to bring Mattie here and bring us breakfast," Mac says.

"I didn't have any plans, Ma'am. That isn't really true. I plan to help out here..." He has to stop to take a breath. "...if that's okay." He adds quickly, "I plan to go to my mother's later. My parents are divorced ... about a year now ... and I plan to spend my spring break with her, Ma'am."

Since he's still speaking in broken sentences, I don't think that Kevin is used to being under the scrutinizing eye of a girl's mother.

"We'd love to have you sit and enjoy the breakfast with us that you brought, but guests of the Rabbs don't have to work," Mac responds.

"I don't mind, really, Ma'am." Kevin says, still nervous, but a little more calm.

"Then you'll have to stop calling me ma'am. Call me Mac. All my friends do, and if you're my friend...you aren't our guest."

"Yes, Ma'am, I mean, Mac, Ma'am, thank you."

Mac looks over her shoulder at me, and we smile at each other. Then she turns back to look at Mattie and Kevin.

"I've been up for several hours putting the nursery together, so I should go with Harm to help with that diaper change to make sure that he can find everything that he needs, but make yourself at home, and we'll be back in a minute."

"We'll get everyone else ready for breakfast," Mattie replies as Mac moves towards me.

"That would be nice, thank you," Mac replies before she and I start down the hall to the nursery.

A few steps down the hall, Mac leans in close and whispers, "Kevin likes her."

"I know," I whisper back.

"I think Mattie likes him, too," Mac whispers.

"I do, too," I reply.

"He seems like a nice young man. Do you know what he's studying or in what career field he's interested?"

"No," I answer.

"Then I'm glad that he's going to be around today. I think it's time that we find out a few things about this young man before he gets involved with our daughter."

I smile at her reference to Mattie being 'our daughter'.

"He might feel more comfortable talking to another guy, so he should help you today while Mattie helps me," Mac states as we reach the door to the nursery.

**ROBERTS' HOME**

**1255**

**MAC'S POV**

Abigail and I are standing on the Roberts' porch after ringing the doorbell, wondering if anyone can tell the difference between the sound of the doorbell and the series of plunks and plinks coming from inside as AJ finishes his piano lesson.

The door opens, and Harriet looks down and greets Abigail first.

"Come on in, Abigail. You know the way, so why don't you go let Mrs. Jonas know that you're here?" she says with her usual exuberance.

As Abigail makes her way into the house, I step inside, and Harriet asks as she closes the front door behind me, "How's the unpacking going?"

"Stressful and slow, but we've made some progress."

"Stressful...isn't Harm helping?" she asks as she motions for me to follow her. It's become our routine to go into the kitchen and have refreshments while Abigail has her lesson.

"He's helping, but we've had some disagreements about a few things. For example, in the kitchen, I wanted to arrange things in one way, and he wanted them to be somewhere else."

"Did you give in and let him put things where it suited him?" Harriet asks.

"I started to, but then I thought why should I? He works full-time, and I don't, so though I still don't like to cook, I do so quite often now, and the one who spends the most time using the space should get to arrange it to suit them."

"Absolutely," Harriet says passionately before adding, "but then you felt guilty for not letting him do things his way so that he feels involved with the daily running of the house, didn't you?"

"Yes. It's like you were there," I say. It's great to be around someone who understands Harm and me.

"You two are okay, though, right?" Harriet sounds concerned.

"In the end, we worked out a compromise, so yes, we're fine, Harriet," I say reassuringly.

**KITCHEN**

**1305**

I'm sitting at the counter, watching Harriet put on a kettle of water to make us some tea to go with the cookies that she's chosen for today's treat when the sounds of the musical scale being played on the piano reaches the kitchen.

"I'm sure that Mrs. Jonas is breathing easier now that Abigail is at the piano. I'm afraid that my AJ is much better at trying the teacher's patience than at playing the piano." The individual notes of the scale stops. "Maybe I'm not having him practice enough. Does Abigail practice every day?"

"She practiced on her keyboard every day for about thirty minutes when we were in California, usually after she'd finished her homework, but without her keyboard, she's been playing only when she's here. So I know that she's looking forward to unpacking the rest of her things when we get back to the house after her lesson."

The tea kettle on the stove top starts to whistle, and Harriet reaches to turn off the heat.

"If you want to skip refreshments to get back to work, I completely understand. I can bring Abigail over after she finishes her lesson," Harriet offers kindly.

"I'd like to stay. I could use the break," I reply with a chuckle.

Harriet smiles before placing tea bags in the cups that she's set out.

The song that Abigail has begun to play makes its way into the room, and Harriet says with a peaceful sigh, "She plays beautifully."

"Thank you, but we can't take any credit for it. Her father was teaching her before he died. I think the piano is her way to stay connected to him."

Harriet nods in understanding as she passes me a cup of steeping tea.

"Oh, while you're here, I need to ask if you have any suggestions on what we can get Ty for his birthday," Harriet says, changing the subject to another one of my children.

"He doesn't need a thing. All of you coming to his party next Saturday is gift enough," I reply.

Before Abigail's lesson comes to a close, we've talked about each one of our children and we've discussed the fun that we've had the last few weeks, looking for a place for Harm and me to rent and going antique shopping the Friday after we signed our lease as kind of a celebratory outing for having ended the rental search.

We've also talked about what each one of us would like to do in the coming weeks. Harriet would like to take a tennis lesson to see if she could improve her game because she'd like to get good enough to beat her mother, and I've decided to take a class on vegetarian cooking. In the end, I didn't have my calendar with me, so we'll have to wait until we can get our family calendars together to firm up any plans.

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

**HARM'S POV**

I come into the room from the bathroom, and my eyes catch Mac in the midst of getting ready for bed.

Clad in only her bra and panties with her foot resting on the edge of the bed, she's enjoying the fact that one of the boxes that were successfully unpacked today was our bathroom items as she applies her favorite lotion to the leg that she's propped up.

After selfishly watching her finish one leg and start on the other, I finally speak, letting her know that I'm in the room.

"I know that we aren't finished, but I think that we put a good-sized dent in getting the house in order."

"Oh, now you speak," she says sweetly.

"What can I say? The view was so nice that I couldn't find my voice before now," I reply, not denying that I was in the room watching her before I spoke.

"I'm sorry that I was a little rough on you today," she says, rubbing the last of the lotion into her calf.

I lie down on the bed as I reply, "I survived...but if you want to make it up to me..." I say before patting the empty side of the bed.

"You've got to be kidding me," she begins while moving her leg back down to the floor. "We've worked all day, and you still have the energy to do that?" she asks, looking and sounding disbelieving. "Where do you get that kind of energy?"

I lift my arms and tuck my hands behind my head before replying arrogantly, "I eat right, exercise..." I pause to give her a charming smile and change to a sexy tone before finishing with, "It's easy to be interested in making love when you're married to a woman as beautiful as you."

She offers a bashful smile.

"That's sweet..." She pauses, and her expression turns sorrowful. "...but I just don't have the energy tonight. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry for being tired, Mac. We had a busy day. So crawl into bed and get some rest."

"After I get something on -" she begins, but I cut her off.

"There's no need for you to do anything except get into bed. Matthew's been sleeping though the night, but if he or any of the children wake up and need something in the middle of the night, I'll take care of it. So there's no reason why you need to do anything other than get in bed before you fall down."

I see a smile start to form at the corners of her mouth.

"You drive a hard bargain," she says, moving to get into bed. Wearing only her bra and panties, she cuddles up to me.

She must have been exhausted because she usually wants to talk for a few minutes before she dozes off, but tonight she's asleep just moments after we've settled into our favorite sleeping position, snuggled up to each other.


	75. Chapter 75

**PART THREE**

**SATURDAY, MARCH 22, 2008**

**GUEST BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA **

**AFTER BREAKFAST**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm fluffing the second pillow, preparing to place it next to the other one on the fresh linens that I've just put on the bed when the sound of my name startles me.

"Mac," Mattie begins before she sees me jump.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. I just thought that you were going with Harm and the children."

"No, I thought I'd stay to see if you needed any help. You've been looking pretty tired this week. Why are you working in here anyway? This room can wait. We aren't having guests, are we?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I don't suppose that it'll hurt to tell you now that it's so close to their arrival time. We _are_ expecting guests."

"Guests, meaning more than one," she speculates out loud while moving to the opposite side of the bed to help me lift the comforter over the freshly fluffed pillows. "Are Grandma and Grandpa coming?" she inquires.

"They are, and that's why, when I finish with this room, I need to spend some time fixing up the guestroom above the garage for them."

"Who's going to be in this room?" Mattie asks.

"Gee Gee," I reply.

"They're all coming...today?" she asks excitedly.

"Yes," I reply.

"Is that where Harm took the kids...to pick them up at the airport?" she questions.

"No, your grandparents are scheduled to come in an hour before Gee Gee, so they're going to wait for her flight to get in and then rent a car and drive themselves here. Harm just took your brothers and sisters along on the usual Saturday dry cleaners and grocery run so that I could fix up the guestrooms without spoiling their surprise."

"Well, since I now know about the guests coming, I can help you get their rooms ready. You've been working on the house so much this week that you've been looking exhausted by dinner time. There's no need for you to do this all by yourself..." She pauses before adding, "...but don't worry, I won't tell anyone and spoil the surprise."

"Thank you," I reply with a smile. "This room is done," I add, smoothing a wrinkle out of the comforter. "So let's grab the other set of clean linens and head to the other room. If we do it together, we should have it done long before Harm and the kids get home."

As I follow Mattie out of the room, I think about how much our relationship has grown from the time when I first started to visit her regularly at the rehabilitation facility, through the rough times of her coming to live with me, to how close we are now.

Half the time I feel like her friend and half the time I feel like her mother.

As we exit the bedroom, I decide that I'm okay with being either as long as she knows that I'm here for her if she ever needs me in any way.

**LIVING ROOM**

**1410**

When Harm got home, Mattie volunteered to take Ty and the girls to the park to feed the ducks before going to the Roberts for Abigail's piano lesson, and it was a perfect way for us to set up things outside, put up a few decorations for Ty's surprise birthday party and for our out-of-town visitors to sneak in.

It's ten after two, and the children should be walking in the door any minute.

For some reason, I feel nervous.

I don't know if I'm worried that Ty will think that a party at home with only his siblings and the Roberts children attending is a nice party or if he'll feel cheated that he didn't get a big party.

I hear that the current trendy child's birthday is a bowling party, but I just don't think that, with the move and other things going on right now, I'd have had the energy to go bowling, so I'm hoping that he'll like his birthday party this year because it isn't nearly as elaborate as some of the other parties he's had, like the party in the park that first year, but I'm hoping that, since we've been able to keep it a surprise, he'll like it."

My stomach is in my throat when I hear the car pull up in the driveway.

I nod to Frank and Trish, who are standing in a position where they can hear and see us while they wait for their cue to come out of hiding.

The front door opens, and the children come racing into the house with Sami in the lead, of course, and heading straight for Harm.

She asks, "Did you miss me, Daddy?"

"Of course, I did," Harm says to her as he scoops her up into his arms to give her a hug.

"Did you have fun at the park?" Harm asks Sami.

"Yes, but waiting for Abigail to finish her lesson was boring. Next time, I want to stay at the park," Sami states emphatically.

Harm squats down with Sami still in his arms to be on Abigail's level. "How was your piano lesson, Princess?"

"It was okay, but I didn't learn anything new. I just practiced the song that she was teaching me last week because Mrs. Jonas said that she had a headache today."

"Did you tell her that you can practice at home now, too, because your keyboard is unpacked now?"

"No, I didn't tell her, but I'll tell her next week, okay?" Abigail answers quietly.

"Okay," Harm says before turning his attention to Tyler. "You know, Buddy, your birthday falls on a Tuesday this year, and that isn't a good day for a birthday party because everyone has school...and since Easter falls so early this year and is tomorrow, it makes this a really hard weekend to have a party," Harm says as he begins to edge into the news of his surprise visitors.

"I don't need a party, but I can pick what we have for dinner on Tuesday night, right?" Ty asks, trying not to sound disappointed.

"You certainly can, but that just doesn't sound like a big enough celebration to me," I interject into their exchange.

"Your mom is right," Harm says before putting Sami's feet down on the floor and standing up. "We need to think bigger," he says, tapping his index finger against his cheek. "You know, I think we're going to need some help...and I know just who we can ask for help with this," Harm says with a straight face. He's actually quite a ham.

"Who?" I hear two distinctively different voices ask. I'll bet that Abigail asked, too, but Sami's and Ty's voices drowned out her softer volume.

"I'm thinking that either Grandma or Grandpa..." He pauses. "Well, since it's for a guy's birthday, you should definitely get input from your grandpa," Harm suggests.

"We're going to call him?" Ty says more like a question.

"I don't think that'll be necessary. I couldn't miss my oldest grandson and fellow baseball fan's ninth birthday," Frank says, stepping out of the dark hallway and into the living room.

"Grandpa!" they all scream as they dash towards him to give him a hug, and seeing them coming, he squats down, ready to welcome each one into his arms.

After the hugging comes to an end, Frank stands. "I don't know exactly what to do, but I suspect that, with Easter being tomorrow, some egg decorating would be a good activity for a birthday party, but I could be wrong, so we should ask your grandma."

"Grandma's here, too?" Ty asks.

"I am," Trish says as she steps up to stand beside Frank.

After hugging their grandmother, Ty says, "The only thing that could make my birthday better is if Gee Gee were here, too."

"Well, you'll never guess who we ran into at the airport," Trish says.

The kids squeal in delight.

"Why don't you go say hi to her, too? She's in the kitchen," I tell them.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2300**

**HARM'S POV**

Mac and I are finally snuggled into bed. I'm tired and ready for sleep, but tonight, apparently Mac isn't because she starts up a conversation.

"I think that Ty really enjoyed his party, even if it was a little odd to be decorating Easter eggs as an activity at a birthday party. Do you think that the party went well?" she asks.

"I think that, anytime we put the Roberts kids with ours, they all have a good time. I also think that anything Ty did today with his grandparents and great- grandmother would have made his day special, even without having hot dogs for a main course," I reply.

"The baseball theme just came to me when I was at the party supply store," Mac comments.

"Well, it was the perfect theme for Ty, and with Frank here to give everyone the stats on just about every player that ever played the game...let me just say that it really made Ty's day."

"Did my parents say how long they were staying for this visit?" I ask before Mac can say anything in response to my previous statement when it dawns on me that Frank's gift to Ty was season tickets for the Baltimore Orioles.

"I know that your grandmother said that she hated to leave on Ty's actual birthday, but it's spring, and she really needed to get back to the farm. So, because of that conversation, I remember that she's leaving on Tuesday, but, at the moment, I can't recall when or if your parents said that they were flying back to California," Mac answers.

"It doesn't really matter. I was just curious because, when Frank gave Ty the tickets, he mentioned that he hoped that they got to see at least one great game this season. You don't think that they're staying through the whole baseball season, do you?" I ask in a panic. I mean, I love my mother and Frank, but I can't imagine them living with us for the next six months!

"Well, Ty put the tickets on his dresser before bed, so tomorrow you can take a look at the dates and see when the last home game of the season is. At least then you'll have a ballpark idea of how long they might be staying here," Mac says with a grin.

"A 'ballpark' idea...funny, Mac," I say to her.

"Wasn't trying to be funny," she replies through a yawn. "Good night, Harm."

I'm glad that the day has finally caught up with her, because I know that I'm ready to close my eyes and visit dreamland.

"Good night, Mac," I say softly as I let my eyelids drift close.

**SUNDAY, MARCH 23, 2008**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**LIVING ROOM**

**1805**

**MAC'S POV**

If I'd been able to do the planning, I wouldn't have chosen to move into a new house the week before having the entire extended Rabb family in town for a visit, but it's been a pleasure to have everyone together again.

Today in particular was a perfect example of how much of a family we've all become.

The morning started with my Sunday morning French toast, jazzed up for Easter by Harm's grandmother, who warmed maple syrup for those who liked theirs with syrup and made another topping from frozen strawberries, while Trish fried some bacon.

After breakfast, Mattie assisted Sami with getting dressed, while Harm was Ty's 'go to guy.' Trish made sure that Abigail was as pretty as a princess, while I dressed Matthew.

With the help, it was easy to have everyone dressed and ready on time to leave for church, the clean crisp lines of the children's new Easter outfits still intact.

After church, it was time to go home and find the Easter eggs that had been hidden in our backyard. That ended with the usual candy and cash being found in eggs left by an Easter Bunny named Frank.

After the children had pulled out all of the stuff from their Easter baskets, it had been time for the men to take over childcare duties while the women had gone into the kitchen to prepare the holiday meal.

The day has been perfect up until now, but now it's time for a member of our family to head back to her other life.

Kevin had knocked on the door just five minutes and ten seconds ago to pick up Mattie so they could head back to school.

Going to her room to get her bag had taken her only a minute, but saying her goodbyes was taking much longer.

She'd started with Gee Gee and then her grandparents, followed by each one of the children. She even took time to bend over and kiss Matthew, who was in his swing, before she turned her attention to Harm and me.

As she's hugging Harm, the burn of tears starts to sting my eyes. I tell myself that there's no reason to cry. This isn't like when she left after a holiday in California and we didn't know for sure when we'd see her again. We'll see her next weekend...or the weekend after that at the latest.

I blink and wipe away the tear that ran down my cheek before Mattie releases Harm and moves to me.

As we hug, I whisper into her ear, "I love you."

Before breaking our embrace, she whispers back, "I love you, too, Mom."

"I'll call and let you know when I can get to town again," she says before looking over at Kevin, who's across the room, standing close to the front door and waiting for her.

"About that," Harm says before holding out his hand with an object secured in his fist.

She opens her hand, and he drops the object into her palm.

"You don't have to call before you come. This is your home. You come home whenever you have time off from school."

Mattie looks down at the key in her hand and then she looks at Harm and me before she moves back to embrace both of us once more.

This time when the hugs end, she moves towards Kevin, who's still waiting by the door. She reaches the door and waves goodbye to all of us before closing the front door behind herself.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

**HARM'S POV**

I enter the bedroom quietly because Mac turned in early and I'm sure that she's asleep.

No one was surprised that Mac was so tired.

I think it was my grandmother who summed it up best while she, my parents and I were having a cup of tea before we turned in.

**FLASHBACK TO MINUTES AGO**

**KITCHEN **

"Of course, the poor dear is tired. She had only a week to unpack before we all swarmed here like locusts for the Easter holiday. She must have worked day and night at it, too, because the house looks terrific and everything's been put away." She paused and took a sip of her tea before adding, "She's a good woman, Harmon. You make sure that you do whatever you have to do to keep that one, you hear me?"

"I have no intention of letting her slip away from me...ever, Grandma."

"I'm glad to hear it, because if she had to put up with any of your shenanigans, she might just qualify for sainthood," she says with a chuckle.

**END FLASHBACK**

Of course, I tried to act indignant at her comment without offering too much of a protest because that would've only incited her to recite past deeds that I'd done that would have proven her point that I could try the patience of a saint.

I shake the memories from my mind of one particular summer that I spent at the farm in my youth where I certainly tried her patience, thinking that she could probably have come up with enough stories from just that one summer to prove her point.

I stand next to the bed, stripping off my shirt and jeans while watching Mac.

In the quiet of the room, I can hear her even breathing that tells me that she's in a deep sleep.

I slip into bed, hoping that I remember to tell Mac in the morning that my parents are leaving on Tuesday as well because my mother has to get back to the gallery for a meeting, but that Frank hopes that they'll be able to return for an extended visit after we get more settled in so that he and Ty can catch some of those ball games together.

After slipping into bed, I put my arm around her and curl up to her sleeping form, settling in for what I hope will be a good night's sleep for both of us.


	76. Chapter 76

**PART FOUR**

**THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 2008**

**TOM'S BEDROOM**

**JOHNSON HOME**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**EARLY MORNING**

**MATTIE'S POV**

I'm kneeling next to the bed, holding my father's hand.

"I called for an ambulance, Dad. Help will be here soon."

It isn't long, but it feels like hours before I hear sirens, at first in the distance and then louder as they get closer.

"They're almost here. It'll be okay, Dad. I'm going downstairs to let them in...hang in there," I say to him, trying to sound positive and reassuring while my insides are churning. I feel sick.

I race down the steps and open the door, but they aren't here yet.

I turn to go back upstairs, leaving the door standing wide open, but a voice calling out causes me to spin back around, and I see a man coming up the steps outside.

"Miss, Miss... We got a call about a man in distress." The paramedic's words finally register as the man reaches the porch.

"Yes, my father. He's upstairs. He didn't come down for breakfast, and when I went to check on him, he said that he just couldn't get up," I reply.

"Is he still conscious, ma'am?"

"Yes..." Then realizing that I haven't been with him for the last couple of minutes I add, "...or at least he was when I left him to come downstairs to make sure that the front door was unlocked."

"Which room, Miss?" The paramedic asks as his partner, a woman, comes into the house, carrying another box.

"First door on the left..." I say as both of them race past me.

The young man takes the stairs two at a time to get to the upper landing. I'm about to follow when a policeman enters the house, and the female paramedic says to him, "She says that the man is conscious."

The policeman nods at her, and she continues up the stairs behind the first paramedic.

"Miss, I need to ask you a few questions," the police officer says to me.

"I should go with them. My father has a serious health condition. I should be there with him," I say in a surprisingly calm way. It's like it isn't real.

"You said that he's conscious. He can tell them what they need to know, but while they're taking a look at him, you can help me by telling me your father's name."

"Tom Johnson...Thomas Johnson if you want his full given name for some report or something." My need to be technically accurate is obviously a result of my living with lawyers.

The policeman nods. "And what is your full name, Miss?"

"Matilda Johnson, sir, but I don't really like that name, so most people call me Mattie."

"Miss Johnson, what led you to call 9-1-1 for your father this morning?"

"I was getting breakfast ready like I do every morning before I leave for school, but this morning, he didn't come down when I called him, so I went up to check on him. He said that he was too weak and just couldn't get out of bed. He looked so pale...I just didn't know what to do for him, so I called 9-1-1."

"You said that he has a serious health condition. What is that condition, Miss?"

"It's his liver."

I can't seem to remember what name the doctor gave it, so I try to communicate his condition by other means.

"His liver..." I pause. "...is failing because he used to drink too much."

"What's your father's birth date?" he asks with a nod.

I don't know if he's judging my father for being a drunk or if he's simply acknowledging the fact that he understands his condition from what I've said.

I look up the staircase, waiting for someone to step out of my father's room and onto the landing to tell me what's happening as I continue to answer the police officer's questions.

The policeman's questions change from irritating to a welcome distraction as I continue to wait for any word on my father.

Even though time is passing, to me it feels like the clock has stopped as I watch them bring in a gurney to take my father to the hospital.

**ER **

**SAINT VINCENT HOSPITAL **

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**MID MORNING**

I sat with my dad until the doctor came in. I would have stayed. I wanted to stay, but the doctors wanted me to leave, and my dad agreed with them.

It was more than an hour before I saw my dad again.

When I finally did get to see him, it was only for a few minutes before a nurse came in saying that she needed to prep him for admission to the hospital. I don't know what that means. He already has on a wrist band and has an IV in. What more could she need to do before he can be admitted to the hospital?

"I'm sure that they just need to draw some blood and maybe do some other kinds of tests. I'm guessing that you didn't eat breakfast this morning. Since I'm doing better at the moment, you should go get yourself something to eat." My father said this to me not more than five minutes ago as if he could read my thoughts.

I left his cubicle, but I can't leave the ER. I'm afraid that he'll call for me and I won't be here.

"Mattie..." I hear my name, but it isn't a nurse.

It's Kevin's voice.

I didn't realize that I was staring at the floor until he called my name.

I lift my head, and he's already standing in front of me.

"How did you know that I was here?" I ask.

"When I didn't see you at school this morning, I tried to call your cell phone. I thought that you might be just running late, so I went to my first class, but when I got out of my class and you still hadn't responded to either my text message or voicemail, I went by your house, and that nosy neighbor of yours told me that an ambulance was at the house early this morning. So I drove straight here, hoping that this was the hospital that they'd taken him to and that I'd be able to find you."

I find myself going into some kind of mothering mode.

"You shouldn't have skipped out on the rest of your classes to come here. Go back to school. I'll call you when I know something."

"No, I want to stay here with you," he says with a tender expression.

"I don't need you here. I don't want you here," I snap at him.

"If you're sure that's what you want..." His voice trials off.

At the moment, I don't care if I've hurt his feelings and I firmly state, "That's what I want. I want you to go. There's nothing that you can do here."

"Then...I'll...go," he says slowly, drawing it out like I'm going to change my mind.

He starts to walk away, but he stops and says over his shoulder, "If you need me for anything...give me a call."

"I'll do that," I say curtly. I just want him to leave, which he does without saying another word.

**ICU**

**SAINT VINCENT HOSPITAL **

**LATE AFTERNOON **

I'm sitting outside my father's room, and my thoughts are on the time that I spent here after my accident...I think that I was even in the same room...maybe not - my thoughts are so jumbled.

One minute I'm thinking about how rude I was to Kevin and the next I'm thinking: 'What if today is the day that my dad dies?' Then I start to think about myself and the fact that, when he dies, I'll be an orphan.

I knew that this day was coming, but I'm not ready.

He can't die today.

What am I going to do without him?

How could I know that this was coming and not be prepared for it?

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

**MAC'S POV**

I get off the elevator and I'm filled with an odd form of deja vu. The last time that I was here, it was Mattie who was in the ICU, and I was coming to offer Harm support.

'I hope that Mattie is more receptive than he was,' I think as I move closer to the nurses' station.

I see Mattie with her back to me, staring out the window that looks out over the parking lot. Her stance is so similar to the way I found Harm that afternoon that an eerie chill runs down my spine.

I move closer to her.

"Mattie," I say softly.

She turns around and looks blankly at me for a moment like she doesn't know who I am, but when I open my arms, she steps into them.

I embrace her, and she immediately wraps her arms around me and holds onto me tightly.

We stand there, and the midday sun coming in the window behind her makes the golden highlights in her hair shine.

After fifty-six seconds, Mattie asks, "How did you know that I was here?"

"Kevin called because he thought that someone should be here with you."

"I was mean to him. He'll probably never speak to me again."

"He knows that you're worried about your dad, so I'm sure that he's already forgiven you. After all, he called the house because he was worried about you."

"He's a good friend," Mattie says with a sigh. "I'm glad that you're here, but where are the kids?"

"Ty and Abigail are at school. Sami and Matthew are with Mrs. Roberts, and she'll pick up Ty and Abigail when she picks up AJ."

"Does Harm know what's happened?" she asks, easing her hold on me and pulling away slightly.

"He knows that your father was admitted to the hospital. He wanted to be here for you, but he couldn't get away this morning, but I'm here, and Harm wanted me to give you this," I say before pulling her in close and quickly giving her a hug. "He also wanted me to tell you that he loves you and that he'll be here as soon as he can."

She pulls away from me completely and turns back to look out the window.

"I knew that this day was coming, but I'm not ready. I don't want him to die. What am I going to do without him? I'll be alone. How could I know that this was coming and not be prepared for it?"

I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't make a move to turn around to face me, so I take a step towards her and say from just behind her.

"I don't think it matters how long you have to prepare. You love your father and you wish that he could be around forever. It wouldn't matter if it happens today or ten years from now. I don't think that you _can _be ready."

I start to stroke her hair as I continue, "No one knows exactly when they're going to leave this earth, but those who are aware that their days are limited have the chance to be sure to tell the people that they care about how much they love them and spend the kind of time with them that might have been spent on other things simply because they believe that they have plenty of time left to do those things."

Mattie turns to face me, listening intently to my words as I continue.

"We don't know if your dad's going to die today, but we know that he's sick and that it's going to happen sooner than you'd like. When it does happen, whenever that is, I want you to know that no two people deal with loss in the same way. It's important that, whatever feelings you do have, you let yourself feel them. It's necessary in order to grieve. It _will_ take time, but once you've worked through your grief, you'll find that it'll hurt a little less each day and that you'll remember more good times than bad."

I reach for her hands and take them in mine. "...And you won't be alone, you have Harm and me for starters, and the rest of your family will be there for you as well...and let's not forget that friend of yours, Kevin..." That remark gets a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "...and I'm sure that you have other friends. We'll all be there to help you through it, and you'll finish college and live the life that you were meant to live."

She starts to cry and, once again, I take her into my arms.

I let her cry on my shoulder without saying a word and keep her in my embrace until she's in control again and pulls away from me.

**1910**

My back is bothering me, and I'm finding it hard to continue to sit here.

I've tried walking and stretching between bouts of sitting still since I arrived, but to no avail. The dull ache in my back seems to have taken up permanent residency.

Maybe if I could lie down, I could get some relief, but any attempts to get comfortable will have to wait until Harm gets here to sit with Mattie. I'm not going to leave her here alone.

I spoke to the doctor an hour ago, and he shared with me that Tom is slipping away. It could be a few hours or a few days. He wasn't sure, but he was certain that Tom wouldn't be going home.

Mattie comes out of her father's room after visiting him briefly and catches me standing up, rubbing my lower back.

"Your back is bothering you, Mac. You should go home where you can at least sit in a more comfortable chair. There isn't anything that you can do here. I'll be okay."

"My backache is probably related to moving boxes and climbing ladders to hang curtains last week, and I'm sure that it didn't help when I let Harriet talk me into taking a tennis lesson on Tuesday," I say, patting her arm. "So don't worry about me. I'll be fine...and I'm staying. I just have to get up and move around every so often. I'd have to do that if I were at home, too. So here or there, it really doesn't make any difference."

She offers a thoughtful smile. "Thanks," she says. She turns away, but when she does, the sight of her father's door must remind her of why she came out in the first place.

She turns around to face me again and says, "My dad asked about Harm. He wants to talk to him. I told him that I didn't know when he might get here, so he wanted me to ask if you knew or could find out if he has any idea yet when he might arrive."

"I know that he had to work out a few things at the office, and there were arrangements to be finalized so that Ty and Abigail wouldn't miss school tomorrow. I don't know when he'll be able to leave Washington exactly, but I can give him a call to see if he has a better idea now of when he'll get here. Since I can't use my cellphone in this area of the hospital, I'll need to step outside to call him. Will you be okay if I leave for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Maybe a walk around outside will help your back."

I offer her a grateful smile for her concern about me in this trying time for her. "Maybe...I'll call Harm. I'll be back in a few minutes. Would you like for me to bring you something when I come back? A cup of tea or a sandwich...you haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but a soda would be good."

"I'll see what they have and bring you one," I say, pulling her in for a quick hug that I'm not sure if it's for her benefit or mine. I know that she's hurting, and that's hurting me.

**2145**

The sun has set, and I'm staring out the window at the well-lit parking lot below.

I didn't see him pull into the parking lot, but I didn't need to because I can sense that he's close by.

Mattie comes over and stands next to me, but she's looking at me, not out the window.

"How was your visit with your father?" I ask.

"He's sleeping, so it wasn't much of a visit. I came out to see if Harm had arrived yet."

"He's here...at the hospital," I inform her.

"That's why you've been looking out at the parking lot. You've been watching for his car."

I don't have to try to explain that I didn't see his car or that my Harm radar is working with peak efficiency because his voice saying our names reaches our ears.

"Mattie ... Mac," he says, as his long strides make quick work of the distance between us.

We both turn like lost little girls who want the comforting embrace of their father.

We each needed him here for different reasons.

I needed to gather strength from him in order to be strong for our daughter, and Mattie needed to be able to be near him in order to truly understand that, when her father is gone, she won't be alone. She has a man who's willing and able to be her dad and who loves her unconditionally.

I lean against one of his shoulders and Mattie takes the other one. He puts an arm around each of us.

I can't speak for Mattie, but I find some peace in his embrace.

I extend my arm and place it just under Harm's around Mattie.

I hope that the three of us standing here together, lending our support to her will help her completely understand that she doesn't have just Harm, but that she has an entire family who loves her.

**TOM'S ROOM**

**2215**

**HARM'S POV**

"Harm..." Tom's voice is weak as he speaks my name.

"Yeah, Tom, I'm here. Mattie said that you wanted to see me."

He nods and then addresses Mattie.

"Mattie, I need to talk about some legal stuff with Harm. Could you please step outside for a minute? Harm will let you know when we're done." His words come out in raspy puffs.

"I guess..." she says apprehensively "...but I'll be right outside if you need me."

He offers her a nod.

He waits until she's stepped out of the room before drawing in a deep breath to speak.

"I want to talk to you about Mattie," he says before letting out the breath. "My Mattie has always been a head-strong girl like her mother, but I'm afraid that my death will make her vulnerable to all the things that she's avoided until now, like drinking and drugs. I want you to promise me that you'll watch out for my little girl and be there for her."

He didn't need to ask. I think of her as my daughter and I'll be there for her as if she were my own, but if Tom needs to hear me promise that to him to feel better, then I'll oblige the dying man's wish.

"I promise that I'll take care of her and watch over her as if she were my own, Tom."

"I didn't want Mattie to have to make the arrangements. So, I prearranged for my funeral at the McCoy Funeral Home over on Country Club Drive. There's a copy of the arrangements in my nightstand drawer under my Bible. You make sure that they do what I paid for and that Mattie doesn't have to worry about any of that stuff, please."

"I'll take care of it, Tom."

He nods, our brief conversation having exhausted him.

"Thank you. You can tell Mattie that she can come back in now," Tom says, letting his eyes drift closed.

I step outside and see that Mattie is sitting in a chair beside Mac, who's holding her hand.

"Mattie," I say softly. I wait for her to look up at me before I continue. "We're finished. You can go back in and sit with him now."

She pulls her hand from Mac's and stands.

She stops and gives me a hug before going back into her father's room.

I take her place in the chair next to Mac and reach for her hand. "You look tired."

"I am a little, but she needs us. I called Harriet and Frank to check on the kids."

"How's everyone doing?" I inquire.

"Harriet said that Ty is great company for AJ and that Abigail is great with Nicole. She also told me that Abigail played the piano for everyone after dinner. She said that our two are little angels and that she'll hate to see them go when they leave tomorrow."

"I'm glad that Abigail has been having her piano lessons over there because, if she hadn't, she wouldn't feel comfortable with spending the night over there and letting Harriet take her to school in the morning."

"True, and even though Abigail has been around the Roberts for a while now, I was concerned that she might have a problem with being away from Sami, but Harriet said that she curled up with her teddy bear and went to sleep just fine," Mac states.

"Did Frank have the same luck with Sami?" I ask.

"He said that Sami didn't want to sleep in her room, but when he agreed to let her sleep on the couch in the living room, she was out in just a few minutes." Mac sighs. "I know that I'm not used to it, but it's nice to have family and friends to call on for help. Though I'm sorry that your mother was tied up at the gallery and couldn't get away this morning after you called, I'm thankful that Frank jumped on a plane and got here so fast. I know that Harriet would've kept them all for us, but I would've hated to leave all four of ours with her when she has four of her own."

"I know what you mean...and I hate being away from them, but Mattie needs us right now."

"Yes, she does," Mac says while squeezing my hand.

Mac and I fall asleep leaning against each other in the plastic chairs outside Tom's room until the sounds of equipment alarms, combined with the shouts of instructions wakes us as medical staff start to file into his room.

A few moments later, the pale expression on Mattie's face as she exits Tom's room tells us that this hospital vigil may be at an end.

"He said that he didn't want me to be sad. He wouldn't be in pain any more. He said that he loved me and squeezed my hand," Mattie says in a shaky voice.

Mac and I get to our feet as Mattie continues.

"I told him that I loved him and that I was going to miss him. He told me to remember that I have a family who loves me here with me and that I needed to remember that he'd be with my mom and they'd be watching over me, too. Then he closed his eyes. I thought that he was just going back to sleep, but a few seconds later, the machines started to make all of these noises and nurses started to come in, and they asked me to leave the room."

Mac and I embrace her and hold on to her for several minutes until a few of the members of the medical team start to leave Tom's room.

Mattie turns, and the doctor steps forward. "I'm sorry, Miss Johnson. We did everything we could."

Mattie slumps back against me. "He's really gone. He's dead," she cries out.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the doctor says softly.

"Can I see him?" she asks as tears silently start to roll freely down her cheeks.

"One of the nurses will come out in a few minutes to let you know when you can go in to say goodbye."

I extend my arm, and the doctor and I shake hands as we give each other a nod.

My nod is to let him know that I'm sure that he did everything that he could and that we appreciate his efforts.

I translate his nod to mean that he did all he could for Tom and now it's up to me to take care of his patient's daughter.

The official time of Tom's death is 0039 on the morning of Friday, March 28, 2008.


	77. Chapter 77

**PART FIVE **

**FRIDAY, APRIL 4, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**2310**

**MAC'S POV**

I roll over for the umpteenth time tonight.

As soon as I've settled into this latest position, which is on my side facing the wall, Harm rolls over and places his hand on my hip.

"Are you tossing and turning so much tonight because you're worried about Mattie, angry with me, or is your back still bothering you...or is it some kind of combination of those things or something completely different that won't let you sleep?" Harm asks in a whisper from just above my ear.

I roll over to face him.

The look of concern in his eyes forces me to take in a breath to calm me. I'm not really unhappy or upset with him, so he doesn't deserve to be the object of my frustration.

"A combination of things," I reply calmly before continuing, elaborating on my answer. "Mattie not wanting to come here last weekend didn't concern me because she'd just lost her father. It made perfect sense to me that she'd want to be at their house to feel closer to him, but when she called tonight to say that she wasn't coming this weekend either ... that worries me."

"He died a week ago today, but she just buried him on Wednesday afternoon, so she still might not be ready to leave the house for the weekend yet. I'm just glad that she hasn't been alone out there since he died. Whether it's been all of us out there like last weekend to keep an eye on her or you staying with her in the days after he died while I had to come back to work, or like it's been this week with my parents there to look out for her and let us know if she isn't doing well, she hasn't been there all alone."

"I'm glad that your mother was able to fly in on Saturday and that they're going to be there with her until at least next weekend, especially since you aren't going to be here."

"So, you _are_ angry with me," he says, breaking eye contact with me.

I don't know if he's aware that, as he was talking, he began to rub my lower back, coincidently in the right spot and with the right amount of pressure.

His massage seems to be helping to relieve the discomfort, and I want to purr to indicate how good it feels, but if his actions are subconscious, I don't want to bring his attention to the fact that my back is still hurting.

"It's your job. I'm not angry with you." He makes eye contact with me again. "I just think that the timing of your trip stinks, that's all," I state with a slight pout.

"With Tom's death and Mattie hurting, along with the fact that your back is still bothering you, I couldn't agree more that the timing stinks."

His massage isn't a subconscious gesture. He knows that my back is still bothering me, but I focus on the first part of his comment with my reply.

"We should go out there tomorrow. If Mattie isn't going to come here this weekend, we should go there."

"If you feel that your back is up to the ride out there, I agree that we should go. I would like to see her before I leave on Monday," Harm states while still rubbing my back.

Why do I get the feeling that he isn't going to drop the topic of my sore back?

I try to avoid the subject again by asking about his trip.

"You said that you're leaving on Monday and should be back no later than Friday, but I don't remember you mentioning where you're going or what you're going to be doing." I stop, but quickly add the question, "Or can't you tell me?"

"I might be able to tell you if..." His voice trials off.

"If I swear not to repeat it?" I ask, resulting in a negative head shake from Harm. "If ... what then?"

"If you promise to make a doctor's appointment ASAP to find out why your back is hurting."

His rubbing comfort ceases as he looks into my eyes, waiting for an answer.

"Harm, it's nothing." Knowing that he isn't going to buy that answer, I quickly start to give him more information to justify my response. "Just think about what I've been doing lately. There was the rush to get the house ready for our guests coming into town for Easter weekend, so I moved a lot of boxes in a short period of time and climbed ladders to hang curtains, and then I followed that up by taking a tennis lesson and sleeping in a chair at the hospital in the same week. Add to that the workout that I get from lifting our son all day, and my back just hasn't had time to recover from all the strenuous extra strain, that's all. I don't need to see a doctor. So, tell me about your trip."

He doesn't seem to be sold on my explanation, but he resumes rubbing my back and, when he speaks, he doesn't mention me going to the doctor.

"I'm going with the SecNav as his legal advisor to the IMB Piracy Reporting Centre in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, where he's meeting naval and government officials from a handful of countries to discuss their concerns over the increase in pirate attacks, particularly the ones off the coast of Somalia where they've become more frequent, aggressive and more violent."

"Maritime law, that's right up your alley, Sailor."

"It is," he says with a one shoulder shrug. "With everything going on right now, I wish that I could put off the trip for a couple of weeks so that I'd be closer to home right now, but wishing won't change the fact that I leave on Monday. I'll have to do what I can while I'm here, so we'll go out to see Mattie tomorrow, but you aren't allowed to do any lifting, cooking or cleaning. Your only job this weekend is to rest and relax and give that back of yours a break. Do you have any questions about your assignment?"

"No, Sir," I say with a big smile.

Even though I realize that I have a hard time letting him take care of me, I love the fact that he wants to do it. However, his desire to take care of me has lit the fuse on the guilt 'bomb' that I've been carrying around with me because I haven't been completely honest with him.

I put my head down on his chest and close my eyes to hold in my tears as his arm comes around my shoulders.

I haven't told him that the pain that I'm experiencing now feels like it's in the same place as before and that my fear about going to the doctor is that the endometriosis is back.

The laparoscopic procedure that I had done shortly after diagnosis took away the pain at the time, but I was told that it could reoccur and that, the next time, a more extensive surgery might be necessary.

When I was shot in London, the surgeon removed some of the scar tissue in order to find the bullet, so I was hoping that the possible reoccurrence that my original doctor had mentioned would be averted. However, the pain in my back has me believing that I'm about to have to face another procedure or surgery.

I should tell Harm the whole truth, but I don't want him to worry if I'm wrong. He's got enough on his plate right now without me unloading my worries on him, too.

On the flip side of that argument, it wouldn't be good to blind-side him with the news that I have to have surgery because I didn't tell him everything. So I decide that I should tell him ... but not right now. I'll talk to him about it when he gets home from this trip.

**HARM'S POV**

We've talked and, at the moment, she seems comfortable with her head on my chest and my arm placed around her, but I can't shake the feeling that she's holding back vital information.

My first thought is that she knows something about how Mattie is really doing, but she doesn't want to worry me. However, as I begin to rub my hand up and down her arm, I eliminate that theory because I know that Mac would never keep vital information from me about one of our children.

With that idea dismissed, I think about other possible explanations.

After a few minutes of thinking of various scenarios and, for whatever reason being able to throw out each one, I get an idea that I can't readily dismiss. She could be keeping information from me about her health - more to the point - the cause of her back pain.

"Mac," I whisper. I hope that she hasn't fallen asleep, but if she's finally been able to find a comfortable position, I don't want to wake her.

"Yeah," she softly replies.

"I love you," I say softly.

"I love you, too," she responds in a tender tone.

"Do you love me enough to be honest with me if I ask you a direct question?" I ask with hesitancy.

She lifts her head to look me in the eye and, with a quizzical expression, she replies to my question.

"Of course I do, but what makes you ask something like that?"

"I...I just have a feeling that you're keeping something from me." I don't want to sound accusatory, so I don't stop there. "I could be wrong or I could be right. Has one of the kids asked you to keep a secret? For instance, suppose the information that you have is about Mattie. Maybe you're keeping Mattie's trust by not betraying a confidence." I stop long enough to take a deep breath because it's time for the hard part. "However, I don't think that it's about Mattie. I don't think that you're telling me the whole truth about the pain in your back." There, I've said it, but I want to smooth it out a little so I continue, "I'm sure that it's because you're trying to keep me from worrying, but keeping it from me isn't going to do that. I need to know what you know so that we can face it together."

There are tears in her eyes as I finish speaking, and I know that my gut instinct was right. She _has_ been keeping something from me.

"I don't know anything for sure," she says with tears in her voice.

"But you have an idea or suspicion of what's wrong that scares you?" I say like a question.

She nods, and a lone tear escapes her eye. I lift my hand and use my thumb to wipe away her tear before I respond.

"What do you think it is?" I ask in an even tone as my mind races to try to figure out what could be wrong that would make her fearful of going to the doctor.

"The pain is in the same place as before when I went to the doctor and she said that I had less than a five percent chance of conceiving a child," she says before dropping her forehead to rest on my chest and tightening her hold on me.

I tighten my hold on her as well.

"I don't know if you told me that it could reoccur or if it's something that I read when I was doing my research, but you've been through the procedure before, so, though I'm sure that it isn't a pleasant thing to have to go through, I'm not sure why you'd be worried about going to the doctor to find out for sure."

Her head snaps up off my chest and she looks angry. I guess that I wasn't as tactful as I thought I was being with the way I phrased my thoughts.

"I knew that it could reoccur. My doctor told me that, but do you know what they do for a case of advanced endometriosis?" she says agitatedly.

I shake my head, indicating that I'm unaware of the answer.

"A hysterectomy, that's what they do!" she says with a swirling storm of emotion evident in her eyes.

"If that's what they have to do, then so be it," I say absent-mindedly, not thinking that, from a woman's perspective, it might not be so black and white.

"Yeah, it's no big deal to you, but I'll bet that you'd feel differently if they told you that they needed to cut off your balls to take away your pain," she says in a huff.

"Mac, I didn't mean to sound insensitive, but since you've carried a child and given birth, I just didn't give the child bearing factor much weight, especially since I thought that we'd both agreed that our family was complete once Matthew had arrived," I say cautiously, not sure how she'll react to my point of view.

"We did agree, but deep down, a part of me was hoping that we'd beat the odds and make a baby the old-fashioned way, and if they have to do the surgery, there isn't even a flicker of hope left," she says before she lets out a heavy sigh as if she's surrendering. "However, if I think about it more rationally than emotionally, you're right. We do have a complete family, and if that's the worst case scenario, the emotional part will make it hard, but it wouldn't be the end of the world," she says, blinking back her tears.

As she rests her head against my chest once again, I start to speak, but stop myself. I may be talking to my rational Marine who makes dispassionate plans right now, but my emotional wife is right under the surface and could reappear at any time. I need to take a few moments to think of how or if I should acknowledge her feelings with words, and if I do speak, I want to make sure that I phrase them in a way that will be supportive and understanding.

She's barely settled her head on my chest when she snaps her head back up and asks, "Will we be okay if I have to have that surgery?"

I raise my hands and cup her face in them to make sure that she has to look me in the eye, hoping that she'll see the heartfelt emotion in my eyes when I give her my reply.

"It took me nine years to say it to you for the first time, and I don't know what still makes it so hard for me to say that I don't do it more often, but I love you ... with all my heart. You are the one who I was always meant to be with...and though I may have to be away from home as part of my job sometimes, I'll never leave you."

"I love you so much," she says before putting her lips on mine in a tender kiss.

When she pulls her lips from mine, she breathlessly whispers, "I'll call and make an appointment for as soon as possible."

"Thank you," I whisper before pulling her to me for a much more passionate kiss.

I may not be good at saying the words 'I love you', but I have no problem with showing her that she's my heart's desire and, tonight, I'll make love to her slowly and tenderly, hoping that it forces her to let go of her doubts and believe that I'd never abandon her and that, if she ever left me, it would rip my heart out of my chest.

**THURSDAY, APRIL 10, 2008**

**WAITING ROOM**

**BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**BETHESDA, MARYLAND**

**1035**

**MAC'S POV**

I'm sitting in the waiting area, wringing my hands together in my lap and wondering why doctors always run late, yet they expect you to be fifteen minutes early for an appointment.

My appointment was at 1015, and it's now 1035. Since I was a good patient and showed up fifteen minutes early, I've been sitting here for over half an hour, thirty-eight minutes and twenty-three seconds to be exact.

I don't need the anxiety of waiting on top of the nervous stomach that I have about this appointment.

I find comfort in the memory of last Friday with Harm and manage a smile.

I don't know why I was so worried about telling him my concerns. That isn't true. I know why...because of the type of men who I've been with in the past.

The men of my past thought only about how a given situation affected them. I can't imagine any of them going through what Harm had to in order for me to experience pregnancy. From the intercourse restrictions to making his monthly 'donation', Harm acted as if it was just what all couples had to go through to have a baby. He never said anything that put blame on me for the way that we had to conceive nor did he ever utter a complaint about any portion of the process.

He's proven that he's a different kind of man, and I have to stop making him prove it to me over and over again.

When I start to doubt him, I have only to think back to the months when we were trying to get pregnant to have proof that he's a different kind of man. I don't have to be nervous about telling him anything...like the outcome of today's appointment.

A smile threatens to appear when I think that I actually have to go back to only this past Friday night for an example of how much he cares about me.

He'd been able to get me to tell him what was on my mind, and we'd talked about it. Then he'd declared his love for me and reassured me that he'd never leave me, first with words and then with passionate kisses and tender caresses. As passion had become need, I'd wanted him inside of me, and if his hardened manhood pressed against my thigh had been any indication, he'd wanted me, too, but he wasn't making a move to get into a position to bring our desire to fulfillment, and I'd been starting to be concerned that his words had been hollow ... said, but not truly meant.

****FLASHBACK TO THAT NIGHT, FRIDAY, APRIL 4th ****

With trepidation, I try to find out what's wrong without ruining the mood.

"Harm, I want you," I murmur as his lips make a trail of kisses from my collarbone up my neck and to my ear.

"I want you, too," he whispers into my ear before nibbling on my ear lobe.

I didn't think that I was being subtle, but in case I was, I'm very direct with my next line. "I want you now."

He tucks his head into my neck. "I want that, too, but I should've asked a very important question before I started this," he says softly into my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

"They're in the nightstand," I say a little annoyed. It's where we've kept the condoms for months now.

He lifts his head and looks into my eyes. "Not that ... I should've asked if us being together hurts you. I don't want to hurt you."

Tears, for not the first time tonight, start to moisten my eyes at the thought of him being concerned for me when his very apparent arousal tells me that he does want to finish what he started.

I move my hand up and put my palm against his cheek. "Your love doesn't hurt me. Make love to me," I say before pulling his lips to mine.

When our lips part, he whispers, "Are you sure that you're okay?"

I nod simultaneously with a verbal response, "I'm sure."

******END FLASHBACK******

With the assurance that his making love to me wouldn't cause me pain, he'd resumed kissing me, starting at the side of my neck and working his way down towards my breasts. Moments later, he'd carefully positioned himself over me, cautious not to put too much of his weight on me. Then he'd taken great care to love me slowly and tenderly until our desire had come in waves of ecstasy and crashed into the shore of satisfaction.

With the most recent memory relived of the kind of man to whom I'm married, when I hear my name finally being called by the nurse, I stand and feel more at ease that, no matter what the doctor says today, everything will be okay.

**1147**

I'm finally leaving the doctor's exam room, but I have to stop at the pharmacy to pick up two prescriptions before I can leave the hospital.

I thought that I must have misunderstood the doctor, so I made her repeat what she told me three times.

What the doctor told me wasn't _all_ a total surprise, but the part that I didn't expect has my mind reeling as I try to absorb the news.

In my dazed state of mind, I make at least one wrong turn, but I eventually find the pharmacy and pick up the prescriptions that the doctor has ordered for me.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**2145 **

I pull back the covers to get into bed.

I've had a busy day today, starting with taking Ty and Abigail to school this morning before heading to the Pentagon to drop off Sami and Matthew at the daycare there. With Harm out of town, they haven't been there all week, and I feel more confident leaving them there than taking them with me and putting them in the daycare center at the hospital. I would've asked Harriet, but she's already been so generous with her time, helping out with the children from when Tom was hospitalized until after his funeral that I didn't want to impose, especially since I had other options.

By the time I finally saw the doctor, got the test results back and filled my prescriptions, it was 1223 when I left Bethesda.

I slip into bed.

The late departure from Bethesda put me in the midst of mid-day traffic on the beltway, resulting in a later than anticipated arrival for me to pick up Sami and Matthew from daycare.

At almost six months old, we've started to introduce Matthew to solid foods, buying just a couple of jars at a time, so I was thankful that I did make it to my local grocery store with enough time to stop for baby food and diapers before I had to head to the school to pick up Ty and Abigail.

Once I had the children home, it was homework, dinner and bath time in preparation for Harm's call to say goodnight to the children before their bedtime.

As I pull the covers up over my tired body, I realize that this is the first time that I've had a moment to myself all day.

My first thought as I begin to lay back is that I'm glad that I didn't tell Harm that I was going to the doctor today because he would've asked about it when he called tonight, and this is news that I definitely want to tell him in person.

However, my very next thought is that I wish that Harm were here.

When my head settles onto my pillow, I stare at the ceiling for a moment, wondering if the hours that I have before a new day begins is enough time for me to come to terms with the news that the doctor gave me today.

I close my eyes and fold my arms over me, my hands resting on top of each other on my stomach.

After a few moments in the dark, I'm glad that Harm isn't here. I need time to process the news myself before I tell him.

On the other hand, I'm glad that he's due back tomorrow. I miss him.

Tired and eager for sleep, I realize that I can't even attempt to drift off yet. I forgot to take my medication.

I get out of bed and pad my way to the bathroom to get a glass of water and take my pill.

I return from the bathroom and climb back into bed.

In bed once more, I roll onto my side.

I'm looking at the empty space that Harm normally occupies and state out loud, "I wonder how you're going to feel about the news when I tell you."

I reach out and pull his pillow to me, hugging it tightly to me as I close my eyes, once more hoping that sleep will come easily. I have another long day ahead of me tomorrow.

Harm is scheduled to be back, but he told me tonight that the metro area is expecting spring thundershowers, so the weather could become a factor in his actual arrival time.

It would be nice if he arrived early so that I could talk to him while Sami and Matthew napped...or, if he arrived late after the children are in bed so that we can talk privately, that would be okay, too.

Well, I'll think about it some more tomorrow. Right now, I need to sleep, I think as my eyelids flutter closed.


	78. Chapter 78

**PART SIX**

**FRIDAY, APRIL 11, 2008**

**KITCHEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**AFTER BREAKFAST**

**HARM'S POV**

From the kitchen doorway, I can see Mac. She's in blue jeans and a white knit top, and her feet are still bare. With no makeup, the light coming through the window above the kitchen sink gives her natural beauty a warm glow.

How can a woman look as incredibly beautiful in casual clothes and no shoes as she does? I wonder as I watch her place dishes into the dishwasher.

The loading complete, she bends over to in put the detergent tab.

When she leans over a little farther to lift the door of the dishwasher, she quickly drops the door and steadies herself by leaning against the counter in front of her, quickly moving her hand up to begin rubbing that spot on her lower back.

"I take it that means that you haven't been able to get in to see the doctor for your back yet?" I ask.

The distraction of the pain that she's still experiencing might explain why she didn't pick up on my presence the moment that I reached the kitchen.

She starts to turn, but the pain causes her to do it in slow-motion. By the time that she's been able to turn to face me, I'm in front of her.

"I wasn't expecting you to get home this early," she says as I put my arms around her, settling my hands onto her lower back and freeing her arms to go around me, which she does as she steps in closer to me

I start to massage her lower back with my hands as I reply, "It seems as if the SecNav has a golf game tomorrow. He threw his Pentagon weight around to get clearance to fly out earlier than scheduled so that we'd arrive ahead of the weather and he could get in a good night's sleep before his tee time in the morning. The result is that we arrived very early this morning."

"For getting you home before the storm so that I didn't have to worry about you, I'll have to thank the SecNav the next time I see him."

Her words are muffled by the fact that she's talking with her head against my chest since she hasn't let go of me.

"What would you say if I told you that you could see the SecNav on May 2nd?" I ask hesitantly because, with her back hurting, I don't know if she'll find his invitation all that "inviting". I'm sure that she'd rather stay home with her feet up than in a pair of heels, rubbing elbows with DC's elite.

She pulls back slightly, looks up at me and asks, "What's happening on the 2nd?"

"A dinner party hosted by a strong supporter of the SecNav with the usual kind of State Dinner party attendees: old-money wealthy, politicians and, of course, what DC party is complete without a few guests in uniform sprinkled into the mix? I know that General and Mrs. Cresswell are on the guest list as well as you and me, and since he's TAD to the Pentagon right now, Bud and Harriet have been extended an invitation, too. I hope that you get in to see a doctor and feel up to coming with me that night because I have to attend, and being there with you on my arm would make the orders easier to follow."

"You may have just charmed your way into a date, Sailor," she says with a shy smile.

I give her lips a little peck in response, but, when I pull back, her smile is gone and her features have taken on a more serious demeanor.

"I actually went to the doctor yesterday, but she said that it would be at least a couple of days before the pills that she gave me start to make me feel better."

"Pills...so no surgery or procedure are needed. So the doctor doesn't think that the pain is being caused by the endometriosis?" I question.

"No procedure or surgery needed, and the doctor said a lot of other things, which I want to tell you about, but I have to get this dishwasher running, fix Abigail's hair, dress Matthew, put on my shoes...and about a dozen other things before I'll be ready to take Ty and Abigail to school. So though I'd love to stand right here in your arms and tell you all about my appointment, I have to get a move on," she says, looking at me with the most soulful brown eyes, eyes that captivate me so much that I have trouble listening to her.

"I'll tell you everything later when the two of us have some quiet time. After the kids are in bed, I'll have plenty of time to fill you in on what she said without worrying about us being interrupted," she continues, patting my chest.

She starts to pull away, but I hold on to her.

"I'll start the dishwasher. You are to go by our children's rooms to let them know that they need to get moving because Daddy is taking them to school this morning. Once you've delivered your message, you are to proceed to our bedroom where you can do whatever you want: take a hot bath, nap or read a book, whatever you need to do to relax. Since I've got the day off, I'm giving you the day off."

"You have the whole day off?" she repeats, making it sound like a question.

"I do. So your only job today is to take your medication and take care of yourself. I'll do everything else."

I tilt my head down to brush my lips against hers.

When I take my lips away, I ask, "Do you have any requests for lunch or dinner?"

"Nothing that I can think of right now," she replies.

"After I drop Ty and Abigail off at school, I've got a few errands to run, so if you think of something that you want for lunch, give me a call, and I'll pick it up before we head back to the house for nap time."

"I love you," she says before putting her lips to mine in a loving kiss.

When she pulls her lips from mine, I say, "I love you, too. So enjoy the peace and quiet this morning and get some rest."

She pulls from my embrace and, this time, I know that I must let her go or our children are going to be late for school.

"Aye, aye, Captain Rabb," she says as she saunters towards the hall.

"You have twelve minutes and seventeen seconds before you need to have four kids in the car and be headed for the school," she says over her shoulder with a lilt in her voice that tells me that she's glad that I'm home.

'I'm glad that I'm home, too...dirty dishes and all', I think with a grin as I close the dishwasher and push the start button.

I turn to leave the kitchen and hear "Dad's home" and "Daddy" in the voices of Ty and Sami coming from the hallway.

Mac has delivered her message.

I'm sure that Abigail is on her way to find me, too, but my more conservative little girl won't speak until she sees me.

Ty's the first to reach the kitchen.

"Dad," he says, anxious to get in his hug before his sisters.

"Hey, Buddy," I reply while giving him that hug.

"Momma said that you have the day off and are taking us to school," Abigail states, for verification, I gather.

"Yes, I am, and not only am I going to take you to school, but I'm planning to pick you up, too...and I'm thinking that ice cream would make a good after- school snack today. What do you think, Abigail?" I ask.

"I think that would be very nice, Daddy," she says.

I smile widely at her as I pull her in for a hug.

Even though Abigail has been calling me Daddy every night when I get home from work for a few months now, she'd started saying "Good night, Daddy" after I played her a song once we'd unpacked my guitar when we moved in here about a month ago. However, when I called home each night while I was away, she called me only Harm, so I was worried that our relationship had been set back, but that doesn't appear to be the case.

When I release my hold on Abigail, it's Sami's turn for a hug.

I go to release Sami, but she asks, "What about my kiss, Daddy?"

"Oops!" I say before giving my littlest girl a kiss on her cheek.

"That's better," she says before starting to march away, saying over her shoulder, "We're going to be late if we don't hurry up."

I shake my head at her antics, all the while thinking, 'Yes, it's good to be home.'

"I'm going to change my clothes and dress Matthew, and then I'll be ready to go, so go get your backpacks and sweaters. We depart in less than ten minutes."

"Aye, aye," they say as they head off to get their gear, hoping to beat me to the usual garage door rendezvous location for departure.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**1120**

**MAC'S POV**

I tried to read. I tried to take a nap. I tried to relax. I really did, but I wasn't successful because my mind was unwilling or unable to allow the quiet of the house to lull me to sleep.

My mind has been restlessly bouncing between trying to come up with a way to tell Harm the news and playing out scenarios of Harm's possible reaction to it.

I've started to pace around our room as my internal clock counts down the time until Harm should be back with Sami and Matthew for nap time.

I want to call him to make sure that he isn't running late, but fear that he'd sense my nervousness keeps me from calling his cellphone.

'He knows their routine. He'll be home soon,' I think before I move to get my purse to fumble through it to find my cellphone. The search for it becomes easier when it begins to ring.

I pull the device from my purse and let out a sigh of disappointment. The number isn't Harm's.

I think about not answering it, but a conversation with my friend may prove to be a way to kill time while I wait for Harm to get home.

I flip open my phone, push the button connecting me to my caller and say, "Hello, Harriet."

"Hi, I called because Bud just told me about the dinner that we're supposed to attend on the 2nd. I wondered if we could go dress shopping together one day next week. You are going with Harm to the dinner, aren't you?"

How she manages to say so many words without taking a breath is still a mystery to me.

"Harm told me about the dinner this morning, and yes, I'm planning to go with him, but I'm not sure that I need a dress. I bought several dresses when I was in London a couple of years ago, and two of them still have the tags hanging on them. I'll have to try them on this weekend to see if my post-baby body still fits into them. If either one of them works, I'll just wear it." Figuring that my friend is going to be disappointed that I may not need to go shopping, I quickly add, "Though, if you want to go shopping for your dress next week, I'd love to help you find the right one, and, who knows, a pair of shoes just might call out my name while we're out," I say with a laugh.

Harriet's laughter filters through to my ear.

"Then give me a call when you know what day is best for you, and we'll go shopping next week," she says happily.

"I'll bring my calendar, and we'll make plans tomorrow when I bring Abigail over for her piano lesson."

"That's a wonderful idea. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon then. Bye."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Harriet. Bye," I say before flipping my phone closed.

Harriet's call is too brief, and I return to pacing, this time with my phone in my hand, debating if I should call Harm to see if he's on his way home.

**1140**

I've paced and I've sat, but to no avail. I'm no closer to a decision about whether I should tell Harm while Sami and Matthew are napping or wait until tonight.

One thing's for sure, I'm not going to be able to rest or relax until after I tell him.

My cellphone rings, and I look at the caller ID, hoping that it's Harm. It isn't, but there's no doubt as to whether or not I'll take this call as I flip open the phone and quickly press the button.

"Hello, Mattie. How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess. It just feels weird to be going to class like nothing happened when my father died only two weeks ago. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so. I don't think that I ever told you, but I lost my father a few years before I met you. He and I weren't close, but I still felt a sense of loss. I'd have sworn that it was just some bad TV movie that I was watching, but with a funeral director asking me questions about what kind of casket I wanted and what kind of flowers and other funeral arrangement decisions, I knew that it wasn't a movie. It was happening to me. It took me months to really get a grip on the idea that my father was gone, not just to me emotionally, but that there was no way that he and I would ever have a chance to mend our relationship."

"I can be thankful that I did have that time with my dad. Did you want that...to mend your relationship with your father, I mean?" she asks.

"That's the hard part of it all for me, Mattie. The idea of reconciling with my father didn't occur to me until I was called and told that he was near the end, and he was so far gone by the time I got to him that we never got a chance to talk. I think he knew that I was there, but it was too late to tell him that I forgave him for the childhood that I had. He certainly wasn't a great father, but when my mom left, he tried, and I never got a chance to tell him that I loved him for that."

"Your mother left you? When?"

"That's a story for another time, Mattie."

"I didn't mean to upset you, Mom," she says sincerely.

"You didn't upset me, Mattie. I'm just tired and I don't want to talk about my mother right now. I hope you understand," I reply.

"I think I do...I mean, the kids at school ask me questions about my dad, and sometimes I want to scream. I go to class so I don't have to think about it. I don't want to answer their stupid questions because talking about it just wears me out," she responds.

"I'm glad you understand," I say sincerely.

"I called..." There's a hesitation before she continues. "I know that you and Harm said that I could come there anytime I wanted, but I haven't been there in a couple of weeks, so I was wondering if I could come this weekend. Harm's parents said that they'd drive me there, and Kevin is going to be visiting his mother this weekend, too, so he said that it wouldn't be a problem for him to bring me back to Blacksburg on Sunday."

"You didn't have to call. Harm and I meant what we said. This is your home, and you're welcome here anytime."

"Then is it okay if we come tonight, maybe be there for dinner?"

"Of course you can come for dinner, but be warned that Harm has said that he's cooking tonight, so you'll probably get something without meat in it."

"I'll warn Grandma and Grandpa so they can stop for something if they want to before we get there." Her voice has a little hint of playfulness in it now. "If we're going to get there in time for dinner, I need to get off the phone. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Okay, Mattie, I'll see you soon. Bye."

"Bye, Mom," she says, making me tear up as our phone connection is broken.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that the teenager who gave me all that grief at the beginning of our relationship would be calling me Mom some day.

With the call from Mattie ended and knowing that, with Mattie and his parents coming this evening, tonight isn't going to be the best time to speak with Harm, the decision has been made.

My best opportunity to talk to him will be while the children are napping.

I start to dial Harm's cell number when I think I hear the garage door opening.

I flip the phone closed and head to the kitchen to see if Harm has pulled the car into the garage.

I've almost reached the kitchen when I hear the sound of the garage door closing.

Entering the kitchen, I see Harm coming in with a sleeping Matthew in his arms.

He looks at me and whispers, "You want to take him so that I can get Sami?"

I nod and, after taking our sleeping baby boy from him, he kisses me on the cheek before turning around to go get our daughter out of the car, who's probably asleep since he has to go get her.

**NURSERY**

**MOMENTS LATER**

**HARM'S POV**

I've put Sami to bed and gone to our bedroom to see if Mac was in there. She wasn't, so I figured that Matthew had awakened during his move from the car to his crib, and she was soothing him back to sleep.

I walk into the nursery to find Mac staring down into his crib.

I come to stand beside her and slip my arm around her waist. Then I take a quick peek into his crib.

"He's asleep," I whisper, hoping that she'll tell me why she's just staring at him.

"He's getting so big. It won't be long before he's crawling...quits nursing... He isn't going to be a baby much longer," she says sadly with a sigh, making me wonder if her comment has anything to do with what the doctor said at her appointment.

I want to ask about her appointment, but I don't because she said that she wanted to talk about it tonight, and I don't want to push her into talking about it before she's ready. It would only result in us arguing, and I just got home. I don't want to fight.

"I bought Sami lunch, but she didn't eat much of it. I guess she was more tired than hungry."

"She didn't even eat all her French fries," she comments with a smile.

"No, she didn't even finish her fries. How about you? Are you going to eat your lunch? I bought you a roasted chicken salad. It's in the refrigerator. Do you want me to get it for you? You can eat it in bed."

"I'm sorry, but I'm more tired than hungry right now myself," she says.

"Then it's to bed with you for a nap," I say, my arm tightening around her, but quickly remembering her back, I say, "Sorry, I forgot. I'll have to remember to squeeze more gently."

"About my back...I know that I said that I'd tell you about my appointment tonight, but Mattie called while you were gone. She and your parents are coming in for the weekend, and they're planning to be here for dinner tonight, so I don't know that we'll have much more time to talk tonight than we're going to have before the children wake up from their naps...and I don't think that I'll be able to sleep until I tell you what the doctor said...but not in here. Let's go to our bedroom."

"After you, Mrs. Rabb," I say, allowing her to make the first move to leave the room.

I step in behind her, glad that she's going to tell me now.

I'm worried about her and I didn't know how I was going to manage to wait until bedtime tonight.


	79. Chapter 79

**PART SEVEN**

**FRIDAY, APRIL 11, 2008 - cont'd**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**1155**

**MAC'S POV**

"Why don't you sit down?" I suggest when we enter our bedroom.

For all the thought that I was giving it while he was gone, I'm not sure where to start or what I want to say, so my suggestion that he sit down is to give me a few more seconds to figure out how to tell him.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes.

"Are you telling me that it's news that I should be sitting down to hear?" he asks.

"Not in a bad way, but when the doctor gave me part of the news, it came as quite a shock, so sitting might be a good idea," I reply to his question, trying to prepare him, yet knowing that there's no way for him to be truly prepared for what I'm going to say.

He slides his hands down my arms and catches one of my hands in his.

"Then why don't we both sit down on the side of the bed so you can tell me?" he suggests.

We sit down and, after a couple of moments of silence, I say, "The doctor was able to find the cause of the pain in my back, my fatigue and just about every little ache and pain that I've been feeling for the last couple of months by just doing some blood work and a urine test."

'That was a good starting point,' I think as I take a moment to take a breath.

"It's good that you didn't have to have a lot of tests to find out what's wrong. You mentioned this morning that you had some pills to take. What are you taking?" he asks.

"She gave me two prescriptions. The first one is an antibiotic. It turns out that my back pain is being caused by a urinary tract infection. She said that it could take a couple of days to get enough of the antibiotic in my system that the pain will go away, but she was sure that it would, and I'm to have it rechecked at my next appointment to be sure that the infection is completely gone."

'So far, this is going okay.' I think, pausing for just a moment.

"What's the other prescription for? What else did they find?" he asks a little impatiently.

"In my blood work, they found that I was anemic, and the second prescription is for vitamins with iron in them to take care of that."

"Was she able to tell from these tests why you suddenly seemed to go from being healthy to needing all of this medication?" he asks.

"Though the infection is just a bacterial thing that happens every once in a while, she was able to determine the cause of my need for the iron and vitamin supplement," I answer.

I pause to draw in a deep breath. Here comes the big news.

I look him in the eye. I want to see his first reaction.

"I'm pregnant."

I watch as the color drains from his face.

"Did you say that you're preg - nant?" he asks slowly and softly.

"I did. I am." I stop speaking to let him absorb my answers.

I wait for him to say something or ask a question, but he does neither, and the silence in the room is worrying me, especially since he still looks so pale.

"Even though I missed my period last month, I never once gave being pregnant a thought. I've never been all that regular, and with the stress of moving and then Tom's death and funeral and worrying about Mattie...I just never thought...I mean, I can't get pregnant without medical intervention, right? So, my guess is that, when she told me, I looked like you do right now."

I'm rambling because I can't stand the silence.

He still says nothing.

He just seems to be in a daze.

After thinking about the way that I felt yesterday when I heard the news, I decide that I should help him by giving him answers to some of the questions that I had when the doctor told me that I was going to have another baby.

"After I made the doctor repeat it three times, the first thing that I wanted to know was when it could have happened. Once the doctor gave me a due date, I did the math. I got pregnant on Valentine's Day. Do you remember Valentine's Day?"

He starts to nod affirmatively before he says in just above a whisper, "I thought that the only thing that could've made it better is if we didn't have to get up early and check out of the hotel because I had to work the next day."

He's staring at the floor now.

"If you conceived on Valentine's Day, then you're..." His voice trails off. I don't think that he's completely recovered from the shock yet.

"I'm already at nine weeks."

He nods in understanding.

He lifts his head, takes my hand in his and looks at me.

"Are you and the baby okay?" he asks.

I can see the concern in his eyes.

"I heard the heartbeat yesterday. The baby and I are fine."

"How is your blood pressure?" he asks.

He's asking me questions based on my pregnancy with Matthew, so it does seem that he understands that I'm pregnant, but I'm not sure that he's completely comprehended that we're having a baby.

I don't want to worry him, but I don't want to sugarcoat the risk either.

"My blood pressure is normal, and it may not be a problem with this pregnancy. I've had no morning sickness this time, and the back pain and fatigue can both be attributed to the infection, but I've been assigned to a special OB again because of the endometriosis and my difficulties with my previous pregnancy, but at this time, it's only precautionary. There's no sign that I'm going to have any problems with this pregnancy."

He's looking back at the floor again, and silence once again settles in the room.

Neither of us speaks for four minutes and three seconds.

He's the one who finally breaks the silence.

"Are you sure that you're both okay?" he asks again, giving my hand a squeeze.

"We're fine, really, Harm. Like with the last pregnancy, the greatest risk of miscarriage is during the first twelve weeks. I'm already at nine, so don't worry. Focus on the fact that child number six is on the way for us and that you're going to be a father again."

"Shouldn't that be child number five? I thought that you didn't count Mattie as one of _your_ children," he says, reminding me of my words when I told him how many children I wanted to have with him.

I smile shyly.

"That was before she started to call me mom...and with Tom gone, we're her only parents, so she counts as one of ours."

"So, you'll have your half a dozen," he says, giving me a sideways look with his eyebrow cocked as only he can do, causing me to smile at him.

"I guess I do get my way on that, but if you think about it, I wouldn't be getting my way if you'd gone out to buy some condoms after I'd forgotten to pack some," I say with a purr.

"Touché," he says with a small smile before brushing his lips against mine and adding, "I think that nap that I ordered earlier is now a must, so I'm going to leave you in here to get some sleep while I go do a few things around the house."

"Don't you want to lie down with me?" I ask.

"Not right now. I've got a few things that I need to do while Matt and Sami are still napping," he says.

Harm and I handle things differently. I slept after I heard the news. He'll probably go for a five-mile run to wrap his mind around it.

'I had my time to let it sink in and I need to let him have time to do the same,' I think as I move to lie down on the bed for that nap.

He brushes his lips across my forehead. "Have sweet dreams," he says before standing up.

I give him an affirmative nod so that he feels comfortable in leaving the room to be alone with his thoughts.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**2245**

**HARM'S POV**

I enter the bedroom and strip down to my boxers in the dark.

I don't think that Mac ever got any sleep this afternoon and I don't want to wake her now.

I also don't want to wake her because I don't know what to say to her.

I could tell when she told me about the baby that she was waiting for me to say something, but I just can't seem to think past the problems that she had while she was carrying Matthew.

I don't know if I can handle going through all that again...and with an infant already in the house - it's too much.

I slip into bed.

I've finished settling in on my side of the bed and I'm now lying here with my head on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling and glad to be back in my own bed when her soft voice reaches my ears.

"You and Mattie have a nice talk?" she inquires.

"A short talk. She seems to be doing as well as can be expected. She turned in about an hour ago when Mom went to bed, leaving Frank and me to talk. He said that he and Mom hope to stay around for a another week or two. If Mattie doesn't want them to go back to Blacksburg with her this weekend, they'd like to be around here in case she changes her mind or if they need to help out here so that one of us can go out to see her. Also, next weekend is a home game for the Orioles, and Frank wants to take Ty to the game," I inform her.

"Did you tell him?" she asks.

"Tell him about..." After a moment's pause, I have it figured out. "...about the baby, you mean?"

"Yeah," she replies informally.

"No, like with Matthew, I figured that you'd want to wait until the end of your first trimester to tell anyone," I answer.

I can feel her move in the bed, and when I feel her eyes settle on me, I know that she's rolled to her side to face me before beginning to speak.

"I knew that the news would come as a shock to you." She pauses. "I know that the timing of this pregnancy isn't ideal, but..." Her voice is cracking with emotion and trails off as she gathers her thoughts and composes herself.

I roll to my side to face her, and she begins to speak again.

"I don't know if I can explain it to you. It may be one of those women versus men things that you'll just never understand." She pauses to take in a calming breath. "I carried Matthew, and I don't love him any less because he was implanted, but this baby...we, our love for each other in collaboration with God created this baby, and that makes this baby special to me in a different way - I want this baby so much and I know that the news is a surprise, but I hope that, when the shock wears off, you'll want this baby, too."

I can see tears in her eyes and I place my arm around her waist.

"Mac, I never meant to give you the impression that I don't want this baby..." I let out a sigh, worried that the feelings that I'm experiencing may not translate from man to woman well. "...but at the moment, all I can remember are the problems that you had when you were pregnant with Matt..." My voice trails off.

"...And you're worried about me," she finishes for me.

"I'm worried about both of you," I reply in a soft tone, earning me a quick kiss on my lips.

"Did I ever tell you about my grandmother's theory that things happen in threes?" she asks.

"I don't think so, why?"

"Because I know that we're going to be fine...and when you get to hear the heartbeat for yourself, you'll know that the baby is okay, and when I've been able to shake this infection and get my iron levels up, you'll see that I'm going to be fine, too. If you need more proof, my grandmother used to say that big things always happen in threes. Your transfer here and our move was a big deal. Then there was Tom's death, which, through Mattie, was a major event for this family. Now we're having a little miracle ... a baby. So, that makes three things," she says confidently.

I pull her to me and hold her close.

I wish I had her confidence. I don't like feeling this sense of foreboding concerning the miracle of creating a child, especially when I know that I made this baby with the right woman. She's the love of my life.

"I love you so much, Sarah."

She starts to pull from my embrace, and that's when I realize that I said my last thought out loud.

"I love you, too," she says before placing her lips on mine as she begins to offer me some loving comfort in the form of a kiss.

When she pulls her lips from mine, she tugs at the waistband of my boxers. "And I've missed you," she purrs before returning her lips to mine and, soon after that, her tongue is seeking entry into my mouth, which I permit to let our tongues dance together.

Our kisses become longer and more passionate, escalating the mood in the room, and soon she's straddling me. She makes a trail of kisses up my chest, tucks her head into the crook of my neck and whispers, "I'm okay...and I promise that I won't hurt you."

Resistant at first, but desiring her, I willingly let go of my reservations.

When her words reach my ears, I let her take me into her and allow her to control the pace of our lovemaking until, finally sated, she collapses onto my chest.

Spent after our mutual release, we fall asleep in that position.

**2357**

I wake up, and Mac has rolled off of me and is lying on her back, sleeping soundly.

I roll to my side and prop myself up on one elbow, placing the palm of my other hand on Mac's stomach.

"Don't you doubt it for a second. Your daddy does want you, baby," I whisper to our unborn child.

I let my hand rest over our baby while I watch Mac sleep.

Eventually, I lie down and go to sleep with my hand still resting protectively over our baby.

**EPILOGUE**

Harm didn't know it, but Mac had heard his words to their unborn child that night and knew that he'd accepted that he was going to be a father again, but the fear of losing her or of losing them was something that was keeping him from expressing any joy that he felt about their miracle.

Almost two weeks later, on April 22rd, Harm met Mac at the doctor's office for her first OB appointment of this pregnancy.

Though Mac's back pain gradually disappeared as she took the prescribed antibotics, Harm couldn't stop worrying about her until he heard from the doctor that the infection was gone.

At the same appointment, hearing his baby's heartbeat and seeing their little miracle on the ultrasound screen, Harm couldn't hide the tears of relief in his eyes when he saw and heard for himself that their child was okay.

After being away from home for almost a month, Harm's parents had been planning to return to La Jolla on April 29th. However, once they heard that Harm and Mac had a formal dinner to attend on the 2nd of May, they made arrangements to leave on the Sunday after that dinner instead. One or both of them would return if necessary, but Mattie seemed to be doing well, and they needed to go back to check on the gallery and the house.

With his parents leaving at the end of the following week, Harm and Mac took the rest of the week after their appointment to enjoy the news privately, but made the announcement to the family on the evening of Sunday, April 27th.

Harm stood and said simply, "Mac and I have an announcement to make." All eyes around the table focused on him, waiting for him to speak again. "Mac is pregnant."

Since he didn't believe that the younger ones would understand, he added, "That means that there's going to be another baby in the house soon."

Knowing that medical intervention had been needed in order to give them their first biological grandchild and thinking that her son and his wife wouldn't have been trying to have a baby in the middle of all the chaos of the last month, Trish tried to be discrete in front of the children.

"I didn't know that you'd decided to have another baby," she commented.

Harm understood his mother's confusion and answered without missing a beat.

"It wasn't a decision that we made. It just sort of happened ... on Valentine's Day." He said the latter with a wink.

Aside from their initial surprise at the news, Harm's parents were thrilled that they were going to be grandparents again, and his mother expressed her hope that this one would be a girl, an idea that didn't sit well with Sami because she wanted to remain her daddy's baby girl.

Mattie didn't seem to have a reaction, positive or negative, to the news that she was going to have another sibling, which concerned everyone, but time would tell if the news had just been overshadowed by the loss of her father and she gave the appearance that she didn't care, or if it was a sign of problems brewing under the surface.

Though Harm and Mac had told their immediate family about the baby, as April came to a close, they were waiting for the end of Mac's first trimester before telling anyone else of the pending arrival of a new Rabb.

Feeling that, if they could beat the odds when it came to conception, anything was possible, Mac didn't question the happiness and contentment of her life.

However, this may have been the one time when she should have raised questions or kept up her guard, because she'd never questioned her grandmother on the definition of 'big' in her theory of things happening in threes.

Was '_big'_ defined as stressful events like moving? Was the passing of someone you weren't related to, but whose death deeply affected someone in your family considered to be a '_big'_ event in '_your'_ life?

Finding out that you're having a baby when you were told that the odds were less than five percent would surely be considered to be a 'big' thing, but was it really the third thing or was it just the first of three?

Or was Mac's grandmother right in her thinking at all?

Maybe things just happen, big and small, and there's no cycle or pattern to the events.

Only time would reveal the answer to those questions.


	80. Chapter 80

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - DIPLOMATIC TOUR**

**PROLOGUE **

**WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11, 2008**

**SOMEWHERE IN IRAQ...**

His eyelids fluttered. He wanted to open them. He wanted ... no ... needed to look around and assess the situation so that he could start to form a plan to get to a base camp.

As soon as his eyelids would start to open, the brightness of the sun and the throbbing in his head would cause them to slam shut.

He tried to open his eyes again and again, but it wasn't to be. He slipped back into unconsciousness, and the sun's rays beat down on him, baking his skin.

He regained consciousness a couple of hours later. Still unable to muster opening his eyes, he was thirsty and had an aching head. He hoped that, when he was able to open his eyes, he'd find that he had just a bad hangover.

His mind once again faded to black. He was unconscious again.

It was the next time that he became conscious that moans of pain coming from his left told him that he wasn't the sole survivor.

Those pain-filled moans kick-started him into action. He forced his eyes open to look for the source of the sounds.

When he opened his eyes, his vision wasn't clear. He was looking through spots, but he was pretty sure that the sounds were coming from a form that he could see in BDU's lying about ten feet to his left.

With his head throbbing as bad as it was, he was impressed that he remembered his own name, but it also didn't surprise him that he didn't remember the young Marine's name. However, he was thankful that he remembered that the young man was a corporal who'd been driving the vehicle in the convoy in which he, a Presidential campaign aide and a reporter had been riding.

'His concussion couldn't be that bad if he could remember all that,' he thought before calling out to the corporal.

"Corporal, can you hear me?"

He moaned and then responded, "Yes, Sir."

"I'm having trouble seeing clearly at the moment, so you'll have to tell me what you can about your injuries, Corporal."

His inquiry was as much to assess if the corporal was in better shape than he was as it was a way to help him stay conscious.

"I'm pretty sure that my right arm is broken. I've got a cut on my forehead, but I don't think it's too bad. I'm sore all over, and it hurts to move. How about you, Sir?" the corporal asked.

"Since I'm having trouble seeing, I'm pretty sure that I've got a concussion. Because of my impaired vision, I haven't been able to check for other injuries. I'm sore all over, too, but I don't think that anything's broken. Do you remember what happened?"

"I'm not sure what happened, Sir. One minute we were driving along, and then there was an explosion and we were in the sand. I guess we were hit by an RPG or IED, but I don't understand it, Sir. We've held this area for months. It should've been a safe route for the convoy, Sir."

"I guess the bad guys wanted it back," the first man says, trying to keep up their spirits with humor. "I need for you to be my eyes, Corporal. Look around the area and tell me what you see."

"Yes, Sir."

Keeping the corporal talking was a strategy to keep his mind off the pain.

"The Humvee and a Jeep are on their sides and, Sir..."

"Yes, Corporal, go on," the first man said in a commanding tone, though there wasn't much point in formality here. If they weren't found or couldn't find a way to get to a base camp, rank wouldn't make a damned bit of difference because dead is dead.

"Judging by the debris, I'd say that at least three vehicles in our convoy were hit, Sir, maybe four."

"Do you see any survivors, Corporal?"

"I don't see anyone, Sir, but we're a good twenty-five yards from the vehicles. Maybe they were thrown farther or in a different direction."

"Corporal, I still have fuzzy vision. It seems to be getting better, but I don't know how long it's going to take to clear up and I'm not going to be of any help until I can see. However, we can't wait any longer to find the others, so you're going to have to get to your feet. You've got a mission that only you can do, Marine. Search for survivors, assess their injuries and lend aid if you can. You also need to be on the lookout for any water containers that survived the blast, along with something that I can use to splint that arm of yours. Then report back to me. Understood, Corporal?"

"Understood, Sir. I'll be back as soon as I can."

With his orders clear, the corporal got to his feet and focused on his mission instead of his pain. He was a Marine. Hoo-rah!

The Democratic candidate for the Presidency had three stops on his tour: Afghanistan, Iraq and visiting American wounded at a military hospital in Germany. The tour was his way of reaching out to the troops in order to show his support.

They'd already had a successful visit in Afghanistan without incident.

He closed his eyes.

'Who doesn't come home from a diplomatic tour?' the man thought as he lost consciousness once again.

**THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 2008**

**JAG HQ**

**GENERAL CRESSWELL'S OFFICE **

His yeoman had just informed him that the Secretary of the Navy was here to see him.

General Cresswell wasn't fond of dealing with the political side of his job, but it was the one downside to an otherwise nice position, so he had no intention of giving up the post for that reason alone.

By the time the SecNav walked into his office, Gordon Cresswell had plastered on a smile, the one that he used in an attempt to be polite when he didn't feel like it.

"Mister Secretary, how can I be of service to you today?"

"Cut the crap! You aren't any happier to see me than I am to be here, but I've got something that we need to discuss. It's about that diplomatic tour that I sent Rabb and Roberts on a few days ago."


	81. Chapter 81

**PART ONE**

**FRIDAY, JUNE 13, 2008**

**KITCHEN **

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**MID MORNING**

Mac was humming ... yes, humming. She was that blissfully happy. Why shouldn't she be happy she thought as she unloaded the clean breakfast dishes from the dishwasher?

Okay, there was that pesky little detail that her husband was away again.

This was the third time in the five months since he'd been assigned to the Pentagon that he'd been away from home.

The first trip, which had occured in April and had lasted a week, had been to confer with other nations about crimes being committed by pirates on the high seas.

The antibiotic and iron pills had done their job, and she'd been feeling great when they'd gone to the dinner party on the second of May. They'd had a wonderful evening, barring the old Senator who, when he was introduced to Harm, looked at Mac and said, "This must be the woman behind the man...Mrs. Rabb, I presume." It wasn't so bad, but it ruffled Mac's feathers because she'd been a success in her own right and so much more than a wife and a mother. However, it was the first time that she'd truly missed being able to say that she was with the JAG Corps or the commander of something, but the Senator had been an older gentlemen, and she wasn't either of those things anymore, so Mac had simply said, "Yes, Senator, you presume correctly." The night had ended in a perfect way, though. After they'd arrived home, Harm had carried her off to bed where he'd taken his time to get her gown off and loved her in his gentle way while whispering how beautiful she was and how happy he was to have her as the woman '_beside'_ him.

The following week in May, Harm had been off to Cuba.

He'd gone to observe the proceedings of a detainee and suspected Al Qaeda member being tried for acts of terrorism at GITMO.

The trial had been cut short when the accused had committed suicide on day three. However, it hadn't resulted in Harm coming home early. He'd ended up staying to investigate the accusations by defense counsel that the defendant hadn't committed suicide, but that he'd been murdered.

Harm had called every night to wish their children sweet dreams and say good night and, on Mother's Day, he'd called a second time after the children had gone to bed to tell her that he'd never envisioned himself having children with anyone other than her and that he loved her more than she could ever imagine. It had been a sweetly romantic conversation, and she'd curled up in bed feeling loved even though he hadn't been there to kiss her good night or snuggle with her.

He'd been gone for a total of two weeks that time and had returned having found no evidence of murder.

Now it was June, and he was gone again, this time on a diplomatic tour.

The changing locations and time zone changes of this trip made calls home more difficult, and that meant that they should expect a call when they heard his voice on the phone.

Thinking that the sporadic calls would make his time away harder for the children to handle, Harm had left each one of them something on their pillows the morning that he'd left to make it a little easier for them.

For the three older ones, Harm had left a video tape.

In Tyler's video, Harm had told stories of things that he'd done as a little boy or reminded Ty of times when they'd done things together, like being in the hayloft at the farm. Harm had ended each segment by telling Ty good night so that Ty could listen to one story or recited memory each night while he was away. Abigail's video was Harm playing her a song before telling her good night. He'd recorded all of her favorite songs so she had days worth to watch before she'd have to start back at the beginning. Sami got a video of her daddy reading her favorite stories with breaks after each one where he wished her sweet dreams and told her good night.

At eight months old, a video didn't seem right for Matthew, but not to be left out, Harm had recorded an audio tape of him reading stories to his youngest son.

Mac didn't need an audio or video tape. She was carrying a piece of him inside her, and the movements of their baby was the only reminder of his love and presence in her heart and in her life that she needed while he was away.

There'd been a rough patch with the move, Tom's death and the fear that she'd be facing surgery, but that was behind them.

Mattie was doing well now that she'd had some time to grieve for her father, and she'd decided to spend the summer with them - at home - and with Harm gone, having Mattie around was a godsend. She loved her siblings and enjoyed spending time with them whether it was doing craft projects or taking them to the park, which is where she was getting them ready to take them now. Mattie was looking forward to being able to take Matthew along, but for now, Mac felt that three, especially when one of them was Sami, was a handful without adding an infant to the mix, so Matthew stayed home with her when Mattie took the older children out.

Yes, Mac was feeling great, and her family was doing well now, so she had every reason to be humming.

**ROBERTS HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1130 **

Bud entered his house as quietly as he could. It had been a long flight back, and he was in no mood to hear the latest neighborhood gossip that Harriet had collected while he'd been away.

He was home to shower, shave and put on a clean uniform before reporting to General Cresswell's office to brief him, a meeting that he wasn't looking forward to in any way.

He started up the stairs, hoping that, by the time he got to Cresswell's office, the general would have received good news, because what he had to report wasn't good.

Harriet appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs as he passed the half way point.

"Bud, I wasn't expecting you until Tuesday, but it's good to have you home," she said cheerfully as she waited for him to reach the landing to greet him with the usual kiss hello.

"Schedule changed. I didn't call because I'm not staying. Need to shower, shave and get into a clean uniform before reporting to Cresswell," Bud replied curtly.

"Bud, what's wrong?" Harriet asked her husband as he walked passed her on the landing, not stopping to offer her any form of greeting.

"Bud," she said, following him into their bedroom. "What's wrong?"

Bud knew that he should tell her. Her friend was going to need her, but it wasn't fair for his wife to know before his friend's wife.

"I don't have time for this, Harriet," he said sternly.

He knew that her mind would be racing, trying to come up with a reason that would explain his behavior and mood, but it just wasn't fair for her to know things before the colonel, and there was always the possibility that, when he reported to the general's office, he'd have an update that would make the information that he had incorrect.

"What happened, Bud?" Harriet's tone was worried, and her voice cracked.

Trying a different approach when there was no sign that Bud was going to respond to her, she asked, "Bud, are you in some kind of trouble?"

"I'm not in any trouble," he said as he pulled his unbuttoned shirt out of his waistband. "Look, Harriet," he said coldly before seeing fear in her eyes.

He reached for her hands and took them in his. When he started to speak again, his tone was softer, but still firm in his resolve not to tell her anything, he said, "I'm fine and I'm not in any trouble, but that's all that I can tell you right now, Sweetie."

Harriet nodded in understanding that Bud couldn't discuss it with her, and they embraced for a moment.

"I have to get ready. The general won't wait," he said softly before pulling away and heading into the bathroom for that shower.

Harriet couldn't let go of the sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong, but she knew not to ask Bud any more questions.

She wondered if what had happened was big enough to make the news.

Every time that Harriet heard a news story about a downed plane or an explosion happening in Afghanistan or Iraq, her heartbeat accelerated and her palms got sweaty. It always took her back to the day when she'd heard the news that a JAG officer had been injured in Afghanistan, so she hadn't watched the news for several years, but today she'd make an exception.

She waited for Bud to leave the house before she turned on ZNN, hoping to at least get a clue as to what had happened that Bud couldn't or wouldn't tell her.

In a recap of news stories at the top of the hour, Harriet had more than a clue.

In the background, a military transport jet was shown deplaning while a voiceover informed:

"While on a tour of Afghanistan and Iraq to show his support for our troops, the Senator and Democratic candidate for President got some idea of what the men and women of our Armed Forces face there every day when part of his diplomatic tour caravan was attacked. It is unknown at this time if the Senator was the target of the attack. Fortunately, the Senator was in a vehicle ahead of those who were fired upon and was _not_ in immediate danger."

The scene on the TV changed from the Senator deplaning to him behind a podium, and the voiceover continued:

"At a press conference held shortly after his arrival at Andrews Air Force Base this morning, the Senator expressed his gratitude to the men and women of our Armed Forces who made his safe return possible. He also voiced his hopes that those who were in the vehicles that were attacked and whose status is still unknown at this time would soon be home with their families as well. As we learn more, we'll bring you updates on this story."

Harriet stared at the screen as the voiceover went on to say, "In another top story..." Then her thoughts became louder than the voice coming from the TV, and they were all that she could hear.

'It can't be! Could it be? Was Harm among them? Is that why Bud was so aloof when he was home?'

Her hand came up and covered her mouth, muffling her words as she uttered her current thought out loud, "Oh, my gosh, she doesn't know yet. That's why Bud wouldn't talk to me."

**GENERAL CRESSWELL'S OFFICE**

General Cresswell was on the phone.

"Yes, Mister Secretary. I understand."

"Yes, Sir, I'll notify her myself."

"Yes, Sir, right away," Cresswell got out before the SecNav hung up.

He slammed the receiver onto the cradle. "Damn!" he yelled.

He hit the button on his intercom box.

"Is Roberts here, yet?" he asked, almost yelling at his yeoman on the other end.

"Yes, Sir. He arrived while you were on the phone with the SecNav, Sir. I'll send him in now, Sir."

"No. I'm coming out...and get me a car," Cresswell barked before terminating the connection.

A moment later, General Cresswell came through the door with his cover in hand.

"Our meeting is going mobile, Roberts. You'll brief me in the car."

"Yes, Sir," Bud said, falling in behind the general.

"If I may ask, Sir, where are we going, Sir?" Bud asked.

"In the car, Roberts," Cresswell said sternly.

**BACKSEAT OF THE CAR**

**EN ROUTE TO RABB HOME**

Once the driver had the car in motion, Cresswell didn't waste any time in filling Bud in on what had happened.

"ZNN ran a story of the attack on the diplomatic tour convoy this morning, so the SecNav has ordered that notification of families be made immediately in an attempt to keep panic down to a minimum. The State Department is handling the notification of the families of the civilians. Normal protocol will be followed for those servicemen who are currently posted in country, and our job is to notify the colonel of the status of her husband, at least as much as we know. So, tell me, Mr. Roberts. What do we know about the attack and the status of the people who were in those vehicles?"

"About the attack, not much, Sir," Bud began. "The area in which the convoy was attacked has been in coalition hands for months. There was no Intel prior to the attack to suggest that an attack to retake the area was in the works nor were there any rumors that there was a plan to attack the US diplomats, a trip that was put on the calendar for August as a diversionary tactic because it had been planned for June all along."

"Is it possible, Roberts, that we have a traitor in our midst and that one of our military members sold or traded the correct dates to the enemy?" Cresswell asked.

"It's unlikely that it was one of ours, Sir. Only the generals in charge of operations in Iraq and Afghanistan knew the true travel dates and itinerary of the diplomatic tour, Sir, and their knowledge was limited to the dates and itinerary of when we'd be in their respective areas. The men on the ground learned of our pending arrival only minutes before we landed. Those assigned to the convoy in Iraq were briefed thirty minutes prior to departure from Base Camp One, so the amount of time to get the information out would be limited."

"Are you aware of anyone who knew the movements of the tour in its entirety, Roberts?"

"I'm not aware of anyone, Sir. To the best of my knowledge, we were all given incremental information. As for the captain and myself, for instance, we knew our travel dates, but had no details of our daily itinerary until a briefing each morning, which was given to us by a representative from the State Department..." Bud started to flip through his notes to find the name that he couldn't remember at the moment before he came to it. "... Patrick Davenport, Sir."

"So, if no one else knew, at least one person at the State Department knew the complete agenda and was feeding the information to Mr. Davenport on a daily basis. Either that or Davenport knew the complete itinerary when he left Washington," General Cresswell said, speculating out loud.

"Yes, Sir, that's a logical conclusion, but, Sir, Mr. Davenport was with convoy that was attacked. He's one of the ones whose status is unknown," Bud informed him.

"Wasn't everyone in the convoy that was attacked?" Cresswell asked.

"No, Sir. Three smaller convoys of vehicles, consisting of four Jeeps, two forward and two aft of a Humvee, were sent out at thirty minute intervals prior to the fourth larger convoy, and it was to be followed by three more small convoys like the first three. Once the first convoy of vehicles left, the briefing for the next convoy began. Some members of the diplomatic tour group were to be put in each convoy of vehicles to make sure that no one group as a whole would be at risk, whether it was the Senator/candidate's team or members of the press. We weren't told which convoy would have the Humvee with the Senator in it. I rode in a Jeep in the second convoy, Sir. The larger convoy was for show, Sir, because the Senator arrived with the third group. The convoy of vehicles that were to follow the fourth group met with resistance and had to return to Base Camp One."

"Are our men trying to take back the area and get our people out of there?" Cresswell inquired.

"Affirmative, Sir," Bud replied.

"How many are unaccounted for, Mr. Roberts?" Cresswell asked.

"Three vehicles in the fourth convoy didn't make it to Base Camp Two, and each contained four people. So the tally of those unaccounted for is twelve, Sir."

"Besides the State Department guy you mentioned and Rabb, do you have any information on the others, Roberts?"

"I have a list of names, Sir," Bud said, handing his legal pad to the general so that he could read them.

General Cresswell took the list and looked it over. Out of the twelve names listed, six were Marines, one was Navy and the other five were civilians.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
1325**

The doorbell rang, and Mac wanted to answer it before whoever it was rang the bell again. Matthew was still napping, and she didn't want the bell to wake him.

Mac looked out the peephole in the door and saw General Cresswell and Bud Roberts. 'That's a strange set of visitors,' she thought.

She flicked the deadbolt to unlock it and, as she began to turn the doorknob, the thought struck her that Bud was away with Harm, causing her to question why he was here when Harm wasn't home...and with General Cresswell at that. Then she got a sick feeling. She could think of only one reason why the two of them would be here together.

A part of her didn't want to open the door, but she told herself that she had to know for sure, so she opened the door very slowly.

When the door was finally opened, Bud couldn't make eye contact with her, and that scared her.

"Colonel, we need to speak with you," General Cresswell said calmly.

"The baby is napping, and Mattie has the other children in her room working on Father's Day cards for Harm, so we can talk in the kitchen," Mac said robotically as she stepped aside to let her guests enter her home.

Cresswell and Bud waited for Mac to close the door and lead the way to the kitchen.

**KITCHEN **

**MOMENTS LATER**

"Please have a seat," Mac said courteously.

This was one kind of conversation that didn't get any easier the more times you did it and, thankfully, General Cresswell hadn't had to do it often. However, he had learned a few things over the years.

For one thing, you try to make the spouse feel comfortable. If she asks you to sit, you sit. The other thing that he'd learned was that his sheer presence would tip off a military spouse of why he's there and that it's important not to dally with getting out the information that you have to give them.

As soon as Bud and Cresswell had taken a seat, Mac asked, "Would you like something to drink?" This was an offer that was made more to put off receiving the news than to be polite.

"No, thank you, Colonel, but please get yourself something if you'd like before you join us."

Mac tried to make eye contact with Bud, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"Is he dead?" Mac asked quietly, looking directly into General Cresswell's eyes.

"His official status is unknown, Colonel," Cresswell responded in an even tone. "Have you watched the news today?" he asked.

"No. The children are home, and with Harm away, it isn't something that we watch. Why?"

"I asked because, if you'd seen the ZNN report, you'd have a pretty good idea of what happened."

"Well, I haven't seen it, so please fill me in." Mac sounded sarcastic as she plopped herself down in a chair at the opposite end of the table from Bud and the general.

Cresswell looked at Bud and nodded for him to give her the details as he knew them.

"Ma'am, part of the convoy that Captain Rabb was in was attacked in a portion of the country that was taken and has been held by coalition forces for months. It is unknown at this time if the convoy was attacked for who they thought was in it or if the attack was part of a plan to take back the area. In either case, coalition forces are meeting with resistance in resecuring the area."

"And Harm and how many others are caught in the crossfire? If he isn't dead already, he could be by the time they get to him ... or the enemy could come across the survivors and take them hostage or kill them on the spot. Either way, the chances of my husband coming home to me alive gets slimmer by the minute."

She was a retired Marine who'd been in country on more than one occasion. She knew the score. There was no point in trying to sugarcoat it for this spouse.

"Yes, Ma'am," Bud said, bowing his head to stare at the table top.

"Well, thank you for coming by to inform me. Can I assume that you'll keep me apprised of any changes in my husband's status?"

"You may, Colonel," Cresswell replied.

"I'd appreciate that, Sir. Commander Roberts, will you please show General Cresswell out?

"Yes, Ma'am," Bud answered.

"I don't mean to be rude, but your prolonged visit will only bring about questions from our children, and I see no reason to upset them when their father's status is unknown," Mac said apologetically.

"We understand, Colonel," Cresswell said before standing to leave. "If there's anything that I can do for you or your family, please don't hesitate to give me a call."

"Thank you, Sir. I'll keep that in mind, but the only thing that anyone can really do right now is find my husband."

Cresswell offered Mac a compassionate nod in understanding before looking at Bud.

"After you, Mr. Roberts," he instructed Bud.

"Yes, Sir," Bud responded to the general while looking at the pained expression on his friend's face.

Bud had never felt more helpless as he showed Cresswell the way out and left the Rabb home.

Mac sat at the table and watched the two men walk away.

She wanted to cry, but told herself that "unknown status" was no reason to cry.

"I still feel his presence. He isn't dead," she whispered into the room.

She put her hand on her stomach and began to rub her growing belly.

"Your daddy wouldn't leave me ...us," she whispered into the empty room.

She took a few deep breaths and let them out slowly while repeating to herself that he'd never leave her.

He'd said that he'd never abandon her.

She lost her fight with keeping in her tears when it occurred to her that he'd said that he wouldn't leave her, but he'd never promised her. She should have made him promise. He never broke a promise.

She was still sobbing uncontrollably when Mattie came into the kitchen.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

Mac inhaled a deep breath, bringing the tears to an abrupt halt.

Mac didn't want to tell her daughter about Harm, but she didn't want to lie to her and say that nothing was wrong either.

Mac started to wipe her face with her palm. "Where are the kids?"

"Still in my room. I came in here to make everyone an afternoon snack. Why?"

"Because I don't want them to hear what I think that you're old enough to know," Mac said frankly.

"Mom, is it about Harm?" Mattie didn't know what made her ask that, but that was her first reaction.

Mac could only nod.

"What happened?" Mattie asked, almost panicked.

"The details of exactly what happened are sketchy, but they do know that he was among those who were caught in an attack," Mac answered in measured breaths.

"Is he dead?" Mattie asked, her voice quivering with fear.

"They don't know," Mac replied.

"Do you mean that he's missing?" Mattie asked, slightly calmer now.

"No. They know where the convoy was attacked, but they can't get into the area right now to check on them."

"When will they be able to get to them to find out?" Mattie asked, now getting worked up.

"Unknown, they'll get to them when they can get to them," Mac answered.

"So all we can do is wait?"

"I'm afraid so...wait and pray," Mac answered with a heavy sigh.

"I hate this military stuff," Mattie muttered as she opened the cabinet to get out some graham crackers to start preparing the sliced apples and crackers snack that she'd come in to make for her siblings when she'd come into the kitchen.

The rest of the day in the Rabb home was about sticking to the daily routine. It kept Tyler and Abigail from suspecting that anything out of the ordinary was going on, and the routine made it easier for Mattie and Mac to get through the day without focusing on what they couldn't do anything about - Harm.


	82. Chapter 82

**PART TWO**

**SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 2008**

**KITCHEN**

**ROBERTS' HOME **

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1309**

Knowing that, if Bud knew, Harriet knew about Harm, Mac had thought about canceling Abigail's piano lesson this afternoon in order to keep Harriet from asking questions while they visited and had their tea, but she hadn't canceled.

It was important that the children keep their schedule so that they wouldn't suspect that anything out of the ordinary had happened because she'd decided not to tell the children unless the situation dragged on for too long or until she had an account of Harm's actual status.

She wasn't going to worry her children that they might have lost their father when the only news that she had at this point was 'unknown status,' which was as good as no news as far as she was concerned.

A heavy silence hung over the kitchen until Harriet broke it when she put down a cup of tea in front of Mac.

"You'll let me know if there's anything that I can do for you, won't you, Ma'am?" Harriet asked softly.

"Yes, Harriet, I'll let you know, but for now, only Mattie and I know, so can we not talk about it, please?" Mac asked.

"I thought that Harm's parents were in town this weekend. You haven't told them?" The question was automatic for Harriet and was out of her mouth before she'd processed her friend's request.

"Yes, they're here. They got in early this morning so that Frank could take Tyler to the Orioles' game tomorrow. It's kind of a Father's Day tradition for them to go to a baseball game ... and no, I haven't told them. I don't know how Trish would handle the news that Harm's status is unknown after all the years that Harm's father was MIA. So, for now, I'm not planning to tell them," Mac answered in a quiet and controlled voice.

"I never thought of that. I would image that it would be very hard for her," Harriet said before honoring her friend's earlier request by asking "What would you like to talk about?"

"I'd like to know if you'd help me plan a party," Mac informed her.

"A party...when?" Harriet inquired.

"Since I assume that you're going to have your annual Fourth of July party, let's plan it for the following weekend."

"What kind of party is it going to be?" Harriet asked, already clearing her mind so that her creative juices could flow freely.

"That's why I need your help. That Saturday is Sami's fourth birthday, and she's never had a real party before because she's so young. However, I don't want it to be just a birthday party for a four-year-old. I want it to be more than that. I want it to be a salute to summer, but I want it to be more than that even...I want it to be a celebration of me being half way through my pregnancy without any health issues, a celebration of Sami's birthday and whatever else we can think of to celebrate."

"I'd love to help you plan your celebration, ma'am," Harriet said with a smile. "We've got a month, so let me get a pencil and paper and we can start to brainstorm ideas right now."

"Thank you, Harriet," Mac said with a smile of relief that they now had a safe topic to talk about until she, hopefully, heard from Harm.

**EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN**

**IRAQ **

**DAY THREE**

PFC Carter had been ordered to pass out water at particular times and in a particular order, and he had just one left to hand out at this time.

Carter approached Captain Rabb.

"Here is your water ration, Sir."

"Thank you, Carter," Harm said to the young man as he took the bottle of water from him.

Carter smiled at the officer who he liked already. Maybe it was because the man had an easy way about him.

He was sure that the big man could be stern, but he just didn't see him as being one of those hard-assed officer types whom he'd encountered so far in his military career.

'Maybe it's the difference between Marine and Navy officers,' he thought as he marched towards his two fellow Marines. They liked to stand together to drink their water ration, telling stories about their favorite watering holes back home.

Harm leaned back against the Humvee that was on its side, casting a shadow that provided a tiny spot on the ground out of the direct rays of the sun in their desert environment.

It struck Harm as ironic that the water that he was about to enjoy had been placed in each of the vehicles in the convoy for the benefit of the boys from Washington, the kicker being that, if the men from Washington hadn't been here, he wouldn't be here either, needing the water to drink in order to survive the three days and counting of the sun and scorching heat of the desert.

Harm twisted off the top of his bottle of water.

There had been two cases of water per vehicle and both of the cases in the Humvee had survived, though the same couldn't be said for the rear axle of the Humvee. The entire two cases from each Jeep hadn't stayed in the vehicle, but a search of a small area around the Jeeps had resulted in enough loose bottles being found that, along with the cases in the Humvee, if rationed, Harm figured that it would last them for five days.

Harm took a long sip from his bottle of water before closing his eyes and swishing the refreshing liquid around in his dry mouth.

It was amazing how good plain old water tasted when you knew that the precious life sustaining liquid was in short supply and you needed to savor each mouthful because it would be hours before you got your next ration.

Harm continued to sit there with his eyes closed, and when the brightness of the sun dimmed even more, Harm knew that someone had stepped in front of him before he heard the man's voice booming from above him.

Harm cracked an eye open and saw the man from the State Department - Davenport, yes, something Davenport was the guy's name - staring down at him.

"I spoke to the Marine giving out the water this morning. I told him that his country needed him to march out of here and bring back help. He said that you were the highest ranking military man here so that made you his commanding officer and he'd have to respectfully refuse to obey my request. So, I'm here to tell you to order one of those Marines to go to the base camp and tell them where we are so that they can come and get us or we're all going to die in this godforsaken place."

Harm met the man's gaze.

"Mr. Davenport, I will not order them to do any such thing. I've explained before why someone trekking across the desert isn't necessary, but you apparently need to hear it again. Our point of origin, Base Camp One, knows when we left there and the route we were to take. Our destination, Base Camp Two, knows that we didn't arrive there. Even if Base Camp Two wasn't aware of our route, the drivers from any of the vehicles in front of us can give them the route, and for those who were part of this convoy that got through, they know where they lost contact with us. They may not be able to pinpoint our exact location, but they certainly have it down to a very small, searchable area. There's no reason to risk losing a man to heat or dehydration in order to inform anyone of our location."

Harm had given Davenport the same explanation yesterday and the day before, but he couldn't get it through his head that knowing where they were wasn't the problem.

In a way, Harm had been thankful that Davenport hadn't been able to grasp the concept that they knew where they were because, once he did, the next logical question would be: 'Then why haven't they come for us?'

Harm wasn't sure that the whiny Washington desk jockey could handle the answer.

Davenport turned, and Harm thought that he was going to go away, but today was going to be the day that Davenport got it, and he turned back around and looked down at Harm once more.

Talking had dried out his mouth again, so Harm took in another mouthful of water.

"If they know where we are, why haven't they sent a plane, helo or Humvee to get us?" Davenport asked.

Harm swallowed hard, and the water went down like it was a rock instead of water.

"Mr. Davenport, I can't answer that question. I could speculate on the cause, but I'm a lawyer. I deal in facts, not speculation."

Their first night here in the desert or perhaps it was in the wee hours of the next morning, Harm had had a powwow with the three Marines who'd survived the attack to gather information from them. During the meeting, Harm found that the four of them were all in agreement. Since the three smaller convoys that were to follow theirs didn't come by, it was logical to assume that it was because they couldn't get through, which, thinking logically from a war zone point of view, probably meant that the attack on them was the start or part of an attack launched to take back the area from coalition forces.

That information was something that Harm had withheld from Davenport when they'd had their daily argument about sending out a man on foot because, how do you explain to a civilian without instilling panic in him that one of the reasons for your decision is that you have no way of knowing which direction to send him that he wouldn't be walking straight into enemy hands?

Harm hoped that his answer about not wanting to speculate would be sufficient. He wasn't sure that Mr. Davenport, who was already antsy, could handle the most likely scenario and, for the sake of those around him, keeping Davenport calm seemed to be best for everyone at this time.

Davenport turned and muttered something that Harm couldn't make out as he walked away.

Harm didn't care what he'd said. He was just glad that their daily head-butting was over and that Davenport was leaving him alone.

As far as Davenport's idea about a rescue by plane or helo, Harm could explain why a plane wouldn't be a logical choice. As an experienced aviator, he knew that a good pilot could probably make a landing, but that, with the loose, unpacked sand, taxing a bird for take off would be difficult if not impossible.

Sending in helos was a good idea, and Harm could only speculate on the reason why they hadn't sent them. His best guess would be that either sand storms or insurgent attacks were keeping them from using helos as a means of extraction. The latter would also explain why they hadn't sent a Humvee or some other type of transport vehicle for them.

Harm leaned back against the Humvee once again.

He took the last gulp of water from the bottle into his mouth and closed his eyes as he began to swish the liquid around, savoring the wetness of it.

With only another two days of water left, Harm wondered if he was making the right decision in keeping everyone at the site.

Of the twelve men who'd been in the three damaged vehicles, PFC Carter and Davenport were the two men with the least amount of injury. Both had been in the Humvee and, aside from a couple of bruises, were in good shape.

The other two passengers in the Humvee, Private Winters and a man named James Macmillan, occupation or reason for being there unknown, had a few minor cuts, but were also in good shape overall. Sending Davenport or Macmillan was out of the question. They were in unfamiliar territory and civilians.

Winters was fresh out of boot camp, and his unit had been here for only two weeks, making him an unlikely candidate to make the trek alone. Carter had been here for eight months, but sending him out meant that the group would be down by one trained and healthy man.

Corporal Lansing, a man in his twenties, was three months into his second tour, making him the most seasoned soldier here.

Since they hadn't reached the half way point between the two camps, sending someone back to the point of origin was closer. However, unsure if he'd meet resistance if he sent him, Harm knew that, with his broken arm, the corporal's ability to fight or fire a weapon was in serious question, not to mention that his injury might also prevent him from being able to carry enough water to sustain him for his journey.

With Carter, Winters and Lansing ruled out, and three other Marines dead who'd been assigned to this detail, Harm was left with himself, who half the time couldn't see, and three other civilians: a Presidential campaign aide who didn't appear to be hurt, but who hadn't said a word since he'd been found, a reporter from The Washington Post who had one knee that was three times bigger than his other one, and a freelance photographer with a gash across his mid-section that wasn't looking too good this morning, despite the antiseptic ointment that had been applied from the first-aid kit that had been found aboard the Humvee.

In the final analysis, Harm decided that he really had no other option. Having everyone stay put was best, at least for now. He'd made the right decision, Harm thought after reviewing his options once again.

For the three surviving Marines, this was their status quo, looking out for each other in the hot desert, hoping not to encounter the enemy while also hoping to do so in order to use their training and feel that they were making a difference in the war on terrorism.

For Harm, there were two things to do now that he was managing to stay conscious: ponder the possibilities of what might happen in the coming days, every scenario from flaring tempers as the water supply dwindled to what three marines, one sailor and five civilians might do if the enemy found them before the coalition forces did.

In some cases, there were clear-cut answers. In other cases, Harm would hold a conference with the Marines to gather more input before deciding on a course of action. When not trying to form strategies for every contingency, he'd think of why it was necessary to be prepared - his wife and children. He wanted to see them again.

As for the civilians, when Davenport wasn't trying to order the Marines to do what he thought was best, he was whining about something. It was too hot, too bright when the sun was up, too dry, too dark when it was night - make that he whined about everything, not something.

The campaign aide appeared to be shell shocked and just stared off in one direction. Harm wasn't even sure that the guy slept.

Macmillan answered questions when asked and thanked the private when he handed him his water ration, but, aside from that, he seemed to be distant and uninterested in what was going on, like he was an observer and not a participant in the current situation.

The photographer had been alert for the first thirty-six hours or so and had taken a few pictures, but now with signs that his wound was infected, he'd been sleeping a lot.

The reporter from the Post seemed focused on getting a story. He'd spent most of the first day close to the photographer. He'd spent most of yesterday talking to Davenport and, this morning, he'd tried to talk to Macmillan, but Macmillan hadn't been too chatty, so he was doing what he always did when he wasn't asking questions: he was writing down his thoughts or making notes on his notepad.

Harm took a moment to wonder if his notes would become some Pulitzer Prize winning piece on war...or maybe he'd write a book from a first-hand account...or maybe he'd write a novel based on the real situation, but embellished for the potential of being sold as a movie - maybe they'd get a big star to play him or...

A voice addressing him by his rank interrupted Harm's thoughts.

"Captain Rabb, permission to sit next to you, Sir?" Corporal Lansing asked.

When Harm opened his eyes, Lansing was squatting down next to him, and Harm could see in his eyes that he wanted to tell him something.

The request to sit next to him was only so that he could pass whatever information he had to him without drawing everyone's attention.

"Permission granted, Corporal."

"Thank you, Sir," Lansing said before lowering himself the rest of the way to the ground.

"How's your head, Sir?" Lansing asked once he'd settled back against the Humvee next to Harm.

"About the same," Harm replied.

"Your vision any better, Sir?" Lansing asked. His tone was getting softer with each question.

"It's still a little fuzzy, but if I look down at my feet, I can see that I'm wearing boots," Harm responded lightheartedly.

Corporal Lansing looked both ways to make sure that no one was too close to them before he leaned close to Harm and whispered, "Winters has been messin' with the radio, Sir. He couldn't raise anybody on it, but he heard part of a conversation before he lost the transmission, Sir, and it wasn't good."

"Rally our Marines, Corporal, and meet me at the usual spot in five."

"Yes, Sir," Lansing said before scrambling to his feet.

Seeing the urgency with which Lansing stood and moved away, Davenport's curiosity rose, and he approached Harm as he got to his feet.

"Why was that man in such a hurry, Captain?" Davenport asked.

"He forgot that he has a big date tonight," Harm replied sarcastically.

With his hands on his hips, Davenport yelled, "Captain, you're up to something, and as a high-ranking official with the State Department of the United States, I demand to know what you know!"

"Mr. Davenport, as a high-ranking official with the State Department, I'm sure that you'll understand that what I may or may not know is 'need to know'. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to use the head."

Harm kept one hand on the Humvee for balance for as long as he could and was surprised by how steady on his feet he was once he'd walked the length of the vehicle and had to walk without using it as a crutch.

When Harm arrived at the overturned Jeep, the place where they'd been meeting, Carter, Winters and Lansing were already there.

"What exactly did you hear, Winters?" Harm asked.

"I don't think that I can repeat it exactly word for word, Sir, but the first voice was in the middle of a sentence when I got the signal. The only part that I heard of what he said was that Base Camp One was gone. Then the second voice asked if he could verify the size of the band attacking and the direction of the insurgent movement. The first guy gave the direction as requested, and then the second guy responded with, 'Damn, that'll put any survivors of the convoy attack right in their path.' Then there was static and words that I couldn't make out before I lost the signal completely. Sir, they're headed directly for us." The PFC swallowed hard. "What do you want us to do, Sir?"

It was time for Harm to make one of the hardest decisions of his life. He had nine lives to consider.

Did he arm himself and the Marines and ask them to take a stand against an unknown number of insurgents to protect the civilians? Did he arm everyone to defend their position? Or did he order that the group start moving towards Base Camp Two?

Fight or flight, which one would he choose?

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**2215**

Mac hadn't been able to sleep last night after getting the news, but tonight, keeping up the facade of normalcy, not only for her young children, but for her in-laws while being physically drained by pregnancy and still nursing Matthew a few times a day, she was exhausted, and it took only moments after she put her head on her pillow and closed her eyes for her to enter a light slumber.

**2315**

Mac slowly opened her eyes, the dream that she'd had still fresh in her mind.

"I have complete faith in you. Come home to me, Harm," Mac said softly to the empty room.

Mac sat up and rearranged the pillows. Once she'd settled back against the pillows, she began to speak again.

"I want to tell you a story, baby, about a time when Momma had to tell a friend of hers that the man she loved was missing."

Mac placed her hand on her baby bump as she began to tell the story that she'd just relived in her mind via a dream.

"Momma and Daddy's commanding officer at the time had accidentally ejected himself out of an F-14 that he was flying in with Daddy. We knew that he was in the National Forest, but we didn't know exactly where and couldn't be sure that he'd survived the ejection. His girlfriend at the time was a friend of mine, so, combined with the fact that Momma had been put in charge for the day while the admiral was out with your daddy, it was Momma's job to inform her of the incident."

Mac started to rub her hand over her expanding belly as she continued to tell her baby the story of when she'd had to tell Meredith about the admiral.

********FLASHBACK TO "HEART AND SOUL" S-9 ********

"I wish I had better news," Mac said to Meredith after telling her that the admiral had ejected during his flight with Harm over the George Washington National Forrest.

"You do...anything other than 'he's dead' is better news," Meredith responded with relief.

"There's no guarantee that he's alive, Meredith," Mac said, trying to make it clear that his death may still be the outcome of the search for him.

"You doubt that he is?" Meredith questioned.

The question surprised Mac, and she remained on the fence as far as the admiral's chances of survival.

"I'm concerned," she responded.

"He's fine. There's nothing to worry about," Meredith said confidently.

"How can you be so sure?" Mac asked, finding Meredith's positive resolve unlike the response that most women would have in the same situation.

"Because he'd expect nothing less than complete faith from me," Meredith replied.

********END OF FLASHBACK********

"And she was right. The admiral was hurt, but he was alive. So, you see, baby, we just need to have faith in your daddy. We need to believe with all our hearts that he'll do everything that he can to come home to us."

Mac got up out of bed.

She wanted to go see if Mattie was awake. If she was, she wanted to recount the story to her. Maybe it would give Mattie the same boost in morale that it had given her.

**SOMETIME LATER**

Mattie had been up, kept up by worrying about losing another dad.

The story had seemed to help raise Mattie's spirits, but given what she'd gone through recently, losing her father, Mac didn't think that it had left as positive an imprint on Mattie as it had on her, but at least it had allowed Mattie to drift off to sleep before she'd left the room.

Mac left Mattie's room and went to the kitchen. She was in the mood for a glass of juice.

Once she opened the refrigerator, the gallon of milk caught her attention, and she changed her mind. She wanted a glass of milk.

She poured herself a tall glass and returned the container to the refrigerator before grabbing her glass to return to her bedroom, feeling more like herself than she had since yesterday when she'd heard the news about Harm.

She reached her bedroom and set down the glass that was now half full on the bedside table and climbed into bed.

She took another big gulp of milk before turning towards Harm's side of the bed.

"I have faith in you. I believe that you meant that you wouldn't abandon me, and I'm going to hold you to it, whether you actually promised me or not."

She drank down the last of her milk and placed the empty glass on the bedside table.

She snuggled down into bed and closed her eyes.

"You know, it's really hard to take you seriously when you've got a milk mustache." She heard Harm say into her ear, but when she opened her eyes, he wasn't there.

She used the back of her hand to wipe the milk off her upper lip and then she repeated her words to his side of the bed, "I have faith in you. I believe that you meant that you wouldn't abandon me, and I'm going to hold you to it, whether you actually promised me or not." Then she rested her head back on her pillow and drifted back to sleep.

**EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN**

**IRAQ **

The sun was starting to rise on their fourth day.

Harm had ordered Winters to keep trying to get the radio working. Though Winters hadn't been able to get it operational so they could speak to someone, he had been able to get a few more snippets of Intel, all of which pointed to the fact that, if the pattern of the insurgents continued, they'd arrive some time today.

Since the odds were small that all of them would survive, given the injuries of some, traveling across the desert wasn't an option that had stayed on the table long.

The good news if you were an optimist was that, according to the information that they'd heard in pieces from intermittent radio transmissions, their first encounter would be a scouting party of sorts, a small band of five or so insurgents.

Since the Marines in the convoy had been armed, Harm and his three Marines started to check the working order of the weapons that they'd retrieved from the dead Marines.

In total, they had six M-16s and three handguns, enough to arm all nine of the survivors.

However, the photographer was of no use now. He was unconscious, fighting an infection, and the campaign aide still wasn't with them, mentally speaking.

Harm's vision suggested that a rifle shouldn't be his weapon of choice. He'd have to wait for them to get close before he could be sure that he was aiming at an enemy target.

"You and your Marines have been hovering together and talking among yourselves since yesterday, and now you're all cleaning your guns. I want you to tell me what's going on and what your plan is."

The whiny voice of the man speaking was unmistakable. Harm didn't have to turn around to know who it was, but he did turn around to face him before replying.

"Mr. Davenport, I have a wife and five children with another one on the way. My plan is to get back home.

Harm's response caught Davenport off-guard, which was evident by the expression on his face and by the fact it was the first time that Davenport hadn't seemed to have anything more to say.

"If you'll go have a seat with the others, I'll brief all of you at once in just a few minutes."

**BRIEFING**

"Gentlemen, we've been able to pick up communication over the radio that suggests that some insurgents are headed in our direction."

"When will they get here?" Macmillan asked.

"Exact time is unknown, but we have reason to believe that the small lead band will be here before sundown today. It's also our understanding that coalition forces are behind them, but haven't yet been able to overtake them."

"Are you going to arm all of us?" Macmillan asked.

"Sir, I'm willing to give any able-bodied man a weapon if he can look me in the eye and swear that he can take a life," Harm replied.

"I served my country in the Marine Corps, Captain. I can pull the trigger to protect myself or others," Macmillan stated.

"Lansing, issue Mr. Macmillan a weapon."

"Aye, Sir," the corporal replied to Harm before looking at Macmillan and asking, "Sir, do you prefer a pistol or a rifle?"

"Rifle, son," Macmillan replied.

"Anyone else?" Harm asked the remaining men.

"I'm no murderer..." Davenport said. "...and why are we going to make them angry by shooting at them? We can just surrender and wait for coalition forces to rescue us."

"These guys don't take prisoners. We either get them or they get us," Macmillan answered for Harm.

"He's right," Harm verified. "If we aren't successful in defending our position and you're captured, don't say a word. Even if you hear them speak only in their native tongue, assume that at least one of them speaks English and understands everything you say, whether you say it to them or to one of us."

"But if I tell them that I'm with the State Department -" Davenport began.

"They'll take you with them so that they can put you on TV before they shoot you in the back of the head," Macmillan said, cutting him off. "Do as you're instructed and keep your yap shut!"

When the briefing ended, Harm's armed force had grown from four to six. The sixth being the reporter who'd done a tour in the Army a few years earlier and hoped to get back in one piece to report what had happened. After all, he had an exclusive, first-hand account.

While they waited for the enemy, Harm asked the reporter if he might have an extra pen or pencil and if he could spare a few sheets of paper so that he could write a letter to his wife.

The reporter could hardly refuse, so, with a pistol tucked under his belt, Harm leaned against the Humvee and started his letter in case his men couldn't hold them off until reinforcements arrived.

'To my beloved wife and mother of my children,' he wrote on the first line.


	83. Chapter 83

**PART THREE**

**SUNDAY, JUNE 15, 2008**

**EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN**

**IRAQ **

As of yesterday when they'd caught bits of radio transmissions that had indicated that they'd almost certainly be facing the enemy before help could arrive, Harm had ordered the three surviving Marines to begin performing perimeter watches.

Because of the desert heat, he'd limited each watch to a four hour maximum and left it up to the Marines to choose the order in which they'd rotate, including who'd take the first watch. He'd also ordered a restructuring of the water rations to ensure that the men on watch stayed hydrated, an order that didn't sit well with Davenport.

On the first day after the attack, hoping to delay the decaying process of the three Marines who'd died, Harm had had the remaining Marines dig sand out from under the overturned Jeep to shelter the bodies from the sun's direct rays.

However, in preparation for engaging the enemy, Harm had ordered that the bodies be removed and placed in plain view near the Jeep so that the photographer, campaign aide and Davenport, the three who were unarmed, could be sheltered underneath it.

Harm's hope was that, after verifying that the Marines near the Jeep were dead, the enemy wouldn't search farther and, as long as Davenport kept his mouth shut, the three of them might survive until the coalition forces behind the insurgents arrived.

The heat wasn't the hardest part to deal with today.

No, today the heat was tolerable. It was the waiting that was hard.

Harm wasn't looking forward to the fight, but he preferred that to wondering when it would happen.

He was sipping his first water ration of the day when he heard PFC Carter's words.

"Captain, there are men coming up over the rise to the south, Sir," he said before pulling his eyes away from the binoculars and looking back in Harm's direction. "They appear to be unfriendlys. They're armed, Sir."

They'd rehearsed the civilians with what to do at this moment at least a dozen times today, and he hoped that they were ready.

"You heard the man. Everyone to your battle stations...just like we rehearsed it, gentlemen," Harm said in a commanding tone.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**1630**

After her dreams last night, Mac was a little more at ease today, so it wasn't nearly as difficult to work alongside Trish in preparing dinner as it would've been yesterday.

However, in fifteen minutes, she'd be faced with the dilemma of whether to withhold the information from Harm's parents or tell them what she knew.

Either choice would certainly change her mood and the comfort level in the house.

**1638**

Frank entered the house, concerned about his grandson's mood.

Mattie was in the living room, watching a movie with Abigail and Sami while Matthew played in his playpen.

"Why don't you join them for the rest of the movie, Ty, while I go find your grandma?" Frank said as they entered the living room, having just returned from the ball game.

"Since Harm is still away, Grandma said that she's making a pot roast for dinner, and Mom volunteered to help slice vegetables or whatever else she could do to help, so they're both in the kitchen," Mattie informed him.

"Thanks, Mattie. I'll go check in and then come back in here and give you a hand with the kids."

"Okay, Grandpa," Mattie replied unenthusiastically.

Frank left the living room, shaking his head.

Mattie wasn't acting at all like herself and, at the ballgame, Ty had tried to act like he was having a good time, but he hadn't behaved like the enthusiastic baseball fan as he usually did either.

'There's something going on in this house, and I'm going to find out what,' he thought as he made his way to the kitchen.

**KITCHEN**

**1642**

"Good afternoon, ladies," Frank greeted Mac and Trish as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, dear. How was the game?" Trish asked her husband.

Frank moved to his wife's side and placed a kiss on her cheek before replying to her question.

"I don't know. I found myself worrying more about Ty than paying attention to the game," Frank stated.

"Isn't Ty feeling well?" Mac asked immediately, almost panicked, the memory of him being so sick in the hospital still fresh in her mind.

"He seemed to be feeling okay. It's just that he didn't really seem all that into the game like he usually is."

"Well, Frank, it's Father's Day, and though he loves his grandpa, I'm sure that he's missing his dad, particularly today," Trish responded in a 'couldn't you figure that out for yourself' kind of way before adding, "I'm sure that Harm will call today and then all the children will perk right up."

"Of course, they're missing their dad. That explains why they all seem a little down," Frank replied, thinking that he should have realized that. "When do you think that Harm will call, Mac?" Frank asked.

Mac felt her throat constrict as she wondered how she should answer Frank's question.

If she said that he wasn't going to call, they'd want to know how she could be so sure. If she said that she didn't have any idea when he'd call, it might seem like she didn't think that Harm calling on Father's Day was important and question how she could be so blasé about something so important to her children.

Mac was glad that she hadn't lied or glossed over the news with Matte, but she also felt terrible that she'd burdened the young woman with such news, especially given the recent loss of her father. Though telling them would give Mattie someone with whom to share her feelings about the situation and that would be a good thing, the impact on Trish was something that Mac had to consider, too.

If Trish wasn't in the room with them, the decision would be so much easier, but she couldn't very well ask Trish to leave and inform only Frank. Trish would know that something was wrong, and her imagination would probably conjure up something far worse than what she could tell her. She also wouldn't want to put Frank in the position of having to keep the information from his wife.

Mac's prolonged silence spoke volumes to Trish and Frank.

"Dear, what is it?" Trish asked.

Mac had come to only one conclusion during her silence. If Trish was going to hear it, she needed to hear it from her.

"I don't think that he's going to be able to call," Mac said slowly.

"What makes you think that?" Frank asked, troubled by his daughter-in-law's answer.

Mac answered Frank's question with a question.

"Have you seen the news, particularly ZNN or read the Washington Post in the last couple of days?"

"Why?" Frank questioned. He definitely didn't like the direction of this conversation.

Trish didn't know if it was maternal instinct or the fact she'd been down this road before, the one where everyone tried to sugarcoat the news for the widow, so, before Mac could answer Frank's question, she blurted out a question of her own.

"Just tell us, Mac. What's happened to my son?

Mac swallowed hard and glanced at Frank before looking directly at Trish.

Frank didn't like the hollow look in Mac's eyes and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist, prepared to support her when they got what he was now sure wasn't good news.

"If you've read the paper or seen the news recently, then you're aware that a diplomatic convoy that was crossing the Iraqi desert was attacked..." Mac's voice trailed off.

I read something about that this morning in the Post. I seem to remember that the article mentioned that twelve people were unaccounted for, one of them a reporter for the Post," Frank said.

"Harm is another one of them," Mac all but whispered.

The color drained from Trish's face.

It was a good thing that Frank was there to hold on to her or she might have fallen to the floor.

Finding it difficult to put more than a few words together, Trish choked out, "My son is missing?"

"His official status is 'unknown'," Mac replied softly.

Feeling his wife leaning heavily against him, Frank suggested, "Dear, why don't we sit down and then Mac can tell us everything she knows, okay?"

He waited to get an affirmative nod from Trish before escorting her to the table, his arm still firmly around her waist.

After he got her settled into a chair at the table, he got his wife a glass of water, and then, after giving Trish a few moments to compose herself, Mac told them what she'd been told.

Trish was quiet as she allowed the information that she'd just been given to sink in, but Frank immediately had concerns for Mac's health.

"I think that I understand why you didn't..." With a slight tilt of his head, he indicated his wife and her current state. "...but I wish that you'd told us when we first arrived. It isn't good for you or the baby to carry news like this alone."

"I'm okay, Frank, and a couple of other people know. Our friends, Bud and Harriet Roberts, know, and though I'm not sure that it was the best decision for me to make, it seemed like the right one at the time...Mattie also knows."

"That explains her lack of enthusiasm for anything. She must be worried to death," Frank commented.

"Yes, that's what I think, too," Mac responded.

"When will they know something...not thirty years from now, I hope," Trish said in a curt tone, but with tears in her eyes.

"It's my understanding that coalition forces are trying to take back the area as we speak, so though we don't have a time frame, I think that it would be realistic to believe that we'll hear something in the next few days, a week at most, but certainly not years from now," Mac replied.

"Frank, I'm not leaving here until I know for sure what's happened to my son," Trish stated flatly.

"I'll call and cancel our return flight when we finish up here," Frank replied to Trish before he looked at Mac and asked, "What can we do for you, Mac?"

"For me, have complete faith that Harm is coming home to us. For the children, you can help to keep things running as normally as possible around here so that the children don't suspect anything. I don't want to tell them anything until I know something for certain."

"We can do that for you," Trish said firmly as she planted her hands on the tabletop and started to stand. "Frank, you call the airline to cancel our flights. I've got dinner to finish."

**EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN**

**IRAQ **

"All clear," Harm declared, surveying the area around him.

Seven, he counted seven insurgents dead on the ground around them.

They'd taken on the enemy and come out the victors, though not unscathed.

At the moment, Harm wasn't sure which hurt worse, his head or his shoulder. He'd hit his head again when an insurgent's bullet had entered his shoulder and slammed him backwards to the ground.

Davenport came out from under the Jeep and marched straight over to Harm, hands on his hips.

"What the hell are we going to do now?" Davenport asked.

Davenport's whiny voice echoed in Harm's head and caused him more pain. His head...definitely his head hurt worse.

"We're going to tend to our wounded -" Harm began, but Davenport cut him off.

"We're sitting ducks out here -" Davenport began, but it was Harm's turn to cut him off.

"If you'd shut up, you'd be able to hear the sounds in the distance ... or maybe you just don't recognize that sound, but I do...there's an air strike in progress. Our guys are close. So, if you believe in a god, say a prayer that their strategy works and that they'll be here soon. If you aren't a God fearing man - sit down, shut up and wait," Harm snapped. His head and shoulder hurt too much to be polite.

Davenport started to protest the manner in which he was being addressed, but changed his mind when he saw blood soaking through the man's clothing at his shoulder.

Davenport dropped his arms to his sides.

'If we're going to be rescued soon, there's another way to deal with this sailor,' he thought as he stalked away.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**2200**

"I thought that I heard someone up and moving around in here," Frank commented as he entered the kitchen and saw Mac standing in front of the open refrigerator door.

"I hope that I didn't wake you," Mac replied, concerned that she'd disturbed his slumber.

"No, you didn't wake me. Are you okay, Mac?" Frank asked.

"I'm fine. I just really feel for my children. They haven't talked to Harm since Wednesday, and they were so sure that he'd call them today since it's Father's Day. They'd all practiced how they were going to wish him a happy Father's Day so they could do it before he ran out of phone time. It just breaks my heart that I can't do anything to make them feel better. Though, I think that having Grandpa around to read them a bedtime story sure helped out tonight. Thank you."

"No reason to thank me. I love my grandkids, and any time that I can have time with them is very enjoyable for me." Frank paused for a moment and then related a concern of his own. "You know, I understand that Mattie, since she knows what's going on, and Ty, because he and Harm are so close, would be feeling his absence the most, but after spending time tucking in the children tonight, I think that Abigail was the one who was the most upset by not hearing from Harm."

"You're probably right about that. Like you said, Mattie knows what's going on. That allows her to see Harm's lack of communication with them as circumstances beyond his control. So, even though she doesn't like it, she understands it. Ty and Harm are close, and I think that he's very secure in his relationship with his dad and believes that, if his dad hasn't called, it's for some military reason. Though he was disappointed this evening, I think that he handled it well. Sami ... she loves her daddy and will be the first one to run to him for a hug as soon as he gets home, but I don't think that she really understands how many days have passed since the last time Harm called. In her mind, when Harm didn't call back on Thursday, it had been 'forever' since daddy had called. Abigail is now calling Harm daddy at least twice a day, once when he comes home from work and again when he tucks her in at night, but I think that, because their bond is still so fresh and fragile, she takes Harm not calling more to heart, like he isn't calling because he doesn't want to talk to her. I don't know how to make her understand ... especially without telling her the whole truth. I just couldn't have stood to see the looks on any of their faces if I'd told them why their daddy hadn't called tonight."

The acknowledgement of her thoughts concerning her children and Harm had drained Mac emotionally, and she closed the refrigerator door without getting out anything.

Hoping to change the subject and regain her emotional balance, Mac asked, "How's Trish?"

"Doing better than I'd expected," Frank replied and then asked, "How are you holding up ... really?"

"I'm worried about Harm and about our children, but, other than that, I'm really doing okay," Mac replied, but the unbelieving look on Frank's face made her want to tell him something that she hadn't told anyone else.

"Do you know what the hardest part is for me?" Mac asked.

Frank gave her a negative shake of his head in response.

"If I were the one out there, he'd come for me...and it's hard for me to just sit here like a good little wife and wait helplessly for news when I want to go get him and bring him home myself," Mac stated.

Frank was stone serious when he spoke again. "Harm loves you so much. You know that he wouldn't want you to put yourself at risk to save his skin."

"I know, but that doesn't mean that I don't love him so much that I don't want to go after him..." Mac put her hand on her stomach. "...but let's face it, this Marine is in no condition to be traipsing across a desert right now."

That earned her a smile from Frank.

"You two really are two of a kind. No wonder you butt heads so much. You're so much alike," he said before giving her a hug. After he'd released her and stepped back, Frank added, "I'd better go check on Trish and get some sleep myself. You should try to get some sleep, too."

"I'm going to get a glass of water and check on the children one more time. Then I'm going to try to get some sleep. Good night, Frank," Mac said.

"Good night, Mac," Frank said before turning and heading off to bed.

**EXACT LOCATION UNKNOWN**

**IRAQ **

The sun was starting to rise on the fifth day after the initial attack, and Harm was asleep, exhausted after yesterday's long ordeal.

"I want that man to face charges. He damned near got us killed," Davenport was saying.

"Sir, are you hurt anywhere?" Harm heard an unfamiliar voice ask.

"I'm telling you that he needs to be court-martialed for his actions," Davenport restated.

Harm couldn't believe that the man had gotten to him so badly that he was having dreams about him.

Harm then thought that he felt a light touch at the pulse point on his throat.

"Medic, I've got a pulse here." Harm heard a man say.

'Hadn't he been dreaming? Had he really felt something?' Harm wondered, thrusting his eyes open.

"Hello, Sir. You're the only sailor on the list of missing personnel, so Captain Rabb, I presume?" the same man said when he saw Harm's eyes open.

"The one and only," Harm chuckled.

"Sir, I can see that you have a shoulder wound. Were you hit anywhere else?" a different, younger sounding voice asked before he heard the ripping of material, causing a tug on his wounded shoulder.

"My head hurts and ... I can't see a damned thing," Harm replied.


	84. Chapter 84

**PART FOUR**

**MONDAY, JUNE 16, 2008**

Mac had awakened with the feeling that they'd know something today, but the hours were ticking by and there had been no news. All she could do was hold on to her faith that Harm would come home to her and pray that she'd hear something positive soon.

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1235**

Mac was on her way to the kitchen to join Ty, Abigail, Mattie and Trish after putting Sami and Matthew down for their naps when she heard the phone ring.

Could this be the call?

She quickened her pace to reach the closest phone, which was in the living room.

**LIVING ROOM**

**1236**

The phone stopped ringing just as Mac entered the living room, and her heart sank. Had she just missed the most important call of her life?

Just then, Frank came in from the kitchen, carrying the hand set that he'd answered in there. She hadn't missed the call.

"It's a General Cresswell," Frank said, hoping that this general had news for her...them.

Mac took the phone from Frank and managed to say in a barely controlled voice, "Hello, General Cresswell. Do you have an update on Harm's status?"

"Yes, I do have some news for you. The survivors of the attack have been rescued, and Captain Rabb is listed among the wounded. I don't have any information at this time on his condition. However, I was told that he's already on his way to Germany for treatment."

"I appreciate the fact that you called me personally to inform me. Thank you, General."

"I'll call again when I've received an update on his condition."

"If you hear something in the next few hours, please call me, but after that, you won't be able to reach me here. I'll be making arrangements to fly to Germany as soon as I get off the phone with you, Sir."

Knowing that Mac was a very determined woman and that he couldn't order her because she was no longer under his command, General Cresswell didn't even try to talk her out of it.

"Then I'll make a call, Colonel. They'll be expecting you at Landstuhl, and if you'll call me when you have your flight number, I'll arrange for a car to pick you up at Frankfurt airport and deliver you to Ranstein."

"Thank you, Sir."

Mac had been listening so intently to what the general had to say that she hadn't seen or heard Mattie and Trish come into the living room to see if the phone call had been news about Harm. However, the moment Mac hung up the receiver, she felt the eyes of everyone in the room on her.

She looked up and said simply, "He's been found and he's on his way to Germany for treatment of his injuries."

"How badly is he hurt?" Mattie asked.

"He didn't have any information on his condition, but I'll call and let you know how he is after I get to Germany and see him," Mac replied.

"Should you be traveling in your condition, Mac? Trish and I could go to Germany to check on him for you," Frank said, questioning if she should be making the trip.

"I think that the stress of not going to see Harm for myself would be far worse for my health," Mac countered.

"Unless you're planning to take the children with you, what are you going to tell them about why you're going away when they're already worried about their dad? Trish and I could go without raising an eyebrow." It was Frank's last attempt to get Mac to stay at home.

"I was hoping that you and Trish would stay with them while I'm away, and I haven't decided yet if I should tell the children that I'm going to see Harm," Mac replied to her in-laws' questions.

"In your condition, should you really be traveling by yourself, dear?" Trish asked.

It was her attempt to dissuade her daughter-in-law from making the long flight, not knowing what she was going to encounter once she'd arrived there. Mac hadn't had any problems with this pregnancy so far, and Trish was hoping to keep it that way.

"I'm coming with you," Mattie stated firmly.

Mac was really offering an explanation of why she didn't want anyone to accompany her, but she reached for Mattie's hands, took them in hers and addressed her.

"Though a part of me would love to have you along, it isn't realistic. If Harm is seriously hurt, they may not let any of us see him, but I have to do this. I have to go. I have to try to... What you can do for me...and for Harm...is to help take care of your brothers and sisters while I'm away."

"You'll tell Harm that I love him, won't you?" Mattie said near tears.

"Of course I will," Mac replied, taking her daughter into an embrace.

As Mac and Mattie embraced, Trish asked, "You'll call when you land so that we don't worry...and you'll call the moment you know anything about Harm's injuries?"

"Yes, I'll call when I land so that you'll know that I made it there, and I'll call as soon as I've had a chance to talk to Harm or his doctor about his condition."

Trish waited for her turn to embrace Mac before speaking. "If I recall correctly, depending on your connections, it can take from twelve to sixteen hours to fly to Germany, so make sure that you wear comfortable clothing so that you can rest on the flight."

Mac nodded as she and Trish embraced.

"I'll try to rest on the flight. I'll call when I land and I'll call as soon as I know anything," Mac reiterated to reassure Trish.

"We did everything that you told us to do while you were talking to Momma, Grandma," Abigail said in her soft voice.

Ty jumped right in on what he'd heard when he and his sister had entered the room by asking, "Why are you going to Germany, Momma?"

"Mattie, I know that Sami might be too young to really understand, but I think that it's important that she feels included in what I'm going to tell her brother and sister, so will you go see if she's still awake?" Mac requested.

Mattie nodded affirmatively before leaving the room to see if her little sister was awake and bring her into what would be a family meeting.

"Why don't the two of you come over here and sit with me on the couch while we wait for your sister?" Mac suggested, reaching for Ty and Abigail's hands.

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Mac was sitting on the couch with Sami in her lap and Ty and Abigail on either side of her.

"Momma has something to tell you," Mac began.

"Is it about Dad?" Ty asked.

Mac somehow wasn't surprised that he intuitively knew that she wanted to talk to them about Harm.

"Yes. Momma got a call a while ago that explains why Daddy didn't call yesterday." Mac paused for a moment. "Daddy didn't call yesterday because he couldn't call."

"If he called today to tell you why he didn't call yesterday, why didn't he talk to us?" Ty asked.

"The call that Momma got today wasn't from Daddy," Mac replied.

"Is Dad hurt?" Ty asked.

"Yes," Mac answered.

"What happened to Harm?" Abigail asked.

"Momma doesn't know exactly what happened. She just knows that something didn't go right on Daddy's trip. He got hurt and is on his way to a very good hospital in Germany. So Momma is going there to see Daddy, but Mattie and your grandparents are going to stay here and take care of you while I'm gone."

"You gonna make sure that they take good care of Daddy?" a sniffling Sami asked.

"Yes," Mac answered.

"Can we come with you?" Ty asked.

"I know that you're scared right now because we don't know how badly Daddy's hurt and that none of you are going to feel any better until you get to see or at least talk to him, but I don't think that they'll let you in to see him in the hospital, so you need to stay here," Mac answered.

"Are you going to call us and let us know if Harm is going to be okay?" Abigail asked with tears in her eyes.

Mac put an arm around her little girl.

"Yes, I'm going to call, but you need to know that Germany is a long way away, and I won't even get there until some time tomorrow, so you won't be hearing from me for a little while, but that doesn't mean that anything bad has happened to me or Daddy, okay?"

Mac got an understanding nod from Ty. At nine, he was already becoming quite a young man.

Mac didn't want to push her children away, but she found herself growing impatient and restless. She still needed to pack and make flight arrangements.

As if Frank could read her mind, he said, "You take some more time with the children while I go make your flight reservations."

"Thank you, Frank," Mac commented with sincere appreciation for the kindness that her father-in-law was showing her.

**MEANWHILE**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

As Mac was clearing security at Dullas International Airport, a now comatose Harm was arriving at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, which is located at Ranstein Air Force Base near Frankfurt, Germany.

He was being greeted the way the wounded who'd come before him and the way those who would come after him would be greeted: personally, whether they were conscious of the people around them or not, and the chaplain on duty was at the head of the welcoming committee.

The priest leaned over Harm, almost bowing and spoke, "Harmon..." he began "...you are safe now. You're in Germany."

Even though the priest hadn't completed making the sign of the cross in the air above Harm, the stretcher that he was on was already in motion, headed into the hospital and the elevator that would take him to the ICU. *

**FRANKFURT AIRPORT**

**1220 EASTERN TIME, 1820 LOCAL**

Now in the airport, Mac took note of the time at home,1220. She wouldn't be waking anyone if she called home now as she'd promised before meeting the driver who'd transport her to the hospital located at Ranstein Air Force Base.

She found a chair to sit in, pulled out her cell phone and turned it on.

As she waited for her phone to power up, she calculated that it had been twenty-three hours and forty-four minutes since she'd heard the news that Harm was being flown to Germany for treatment.

She was tired, more mentally than physically.

She'd dozed off a few times, but her mind hadn't allowed her to get any restful sleep. As soon as she'd dozed off, her mind had conjured up images of Harm and the way he'd look when she'd see him - none of them had been good.

She reasoned that she hadn't imagined him with only minor injuries such as a few cuts, bumps and bruises because he hadn't called home. If he'd been _able _to call, he would have found a way to call even if all he'd had time to say was "I'm okay" or "I love you" or "Hug the kids for me. I'll call again as soon as I can."

She dialed the house number.

Mattie picked up before her call finished the second ring.

"Hello," Mattie said hesitantly into the phone.

"Mattie, it's me. I'm in Germany."

"Mom's in Germany." Mac heard Mattie tell whoever was around the phone before she directed a question to her. "Have you seen Harm yet?"

"No, I've been off the plane for only a few minutes. I just wanted to call like I said I would and let you know that I've arrived safely before I find my ride to the hospital."

"Mom says that she's still at the airport," Mattie said to those around her.

"Give everyone a hug for me and tell them that I'll call again when I have news about Harm," Mac said wearily into the phone before they exchanged goodbyes and ended their call.

**ICU**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

Letting General Cresswell make arrangements for a driver had certainly made it easier than trying to secure ground transportation on her own.

The general's call to the hospital to let them know that she was coming had also made things much easier at the hospital.

When she arrived there and told them that she was Sarah Rabb and that she was there to see her husband, Captain Harmon Rabb, it was obvious that they were expecting her.

She was taken to the ICU and shown to a small room with a couple of chairs in it. She believed that it must be some kind of consultation room.

'Oh, God, please, the doctor can't come in here and tell me that I didn't make it in time. He can't die...please,' she said in silent prayer as she sat with her hands in her lap.

"Mrs. Rabb, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Doctor Taggert. I'm one of the doctors who's overseeing your husband's care. When Washington phoned, they mentioned that you were pregnant, so I wanted to talk to you before you saw your husband."

One of the images that had haunted Mac's mind on the plane popped into her head.

"Is part of him missing?" she asked softly.

"No, Ma'am, he's all in one piece, but there are some things that you should know about his condition," he said before taking a seat in the other chair.

The doctor saw her chest deflate as she let out a breath of relief before she said, "Go ahead then and tell me what I need to know."

"He's sustained two major injuries. The first, but not the worst is a gunshot wound to his shoulder. A field surgeon removed the bullet and started him on antibiotics. When he's up to it, his shoulder injury will require some physical therapy to make sure that he doesn't lose any mobility or range of motion, but we don't believe that his shoulder will pose any long term problems."

The doctor had given her the news of his least serious injury first to gauge her reaction. If she didn't tolerate that news well, then she wasn't ready to hear about his other injury or see him.

He was silent for a moment, which prompted Mac to say, "And the other injury is...?"

"According to an initial report that I received, he suffered at least one severe blow to the head and possibly more. The result of that blow is that he has a severe concussion, which has resulted in swelling at the back of his brain around the occipital lobe," Dr. Taggert said frankly. "We've administered medication to reduce the swelling, but he remains in a coma."

"Coma..." Mac whispered aloud in shock.

She didn't remember conjuring up that scenario in her dreams.

"Yes, Ma'am. His vitals are stable, but he is in a coma. A neurologist will be evaluating his case in the morning to see if the captain could benefit from surgically releasing the pressure."

"You want to operate on his brain?" Mac said like a question.

"We wouldn't be operating _on _his brain, but we would be inserting a tube up the side of his neck between the brain and his skull to drain the accumulating fluid in order to relieve the pressure so that he'll wake up," the doctor informed Mac.

"Can I see him, now?"

"I want you to be completely prepared, given your condition before you go in to see him. You need to know that his shoulder is bandaged and his arm is in a sling to keep any spontaneous muscle movements from causing him to pull any stitches loose. He also has two IV lines and, in the last hour, we've had to put him on a ventilator."

The doctor waited to see if the woman was going to cry or show any other outward sign that seeing her husband in this state would perhaps be too much for her, but she'd taken the news without any emotion registering on her face.

Mac knew that she could be hearing worse news, but this news certainly wasn't good.

"I appreciate your candor, doctor, but I'd really like to see my husband now."

"Yes, Ma'am," the doctor said before standing. "I'll take you to him. Just follow me, Ma'am."

**MOMENTS LATER**

Mac stepped into Harm's room.

Maybe it was because the doctor had prepared her so well for what she was going to see...or maybe it was just the relief of seeing him, whichever it was, Mac felt a deep sense of peace come over her.

She moved to his bedside and looked down at him lovingly.

"I'm here, Sailor," she whispered almost seductively before she kissed his forehead.

When she pulled her lips away, she whispered, "I love you...and I'm not going to let you leave me." This time, her tone was firm and confident.

She needed to feel the warmth of his skin. She needed to touch him, so she ran her fingertips over the lines in his forehead and then she cupped his unshaven cheek with her hand.

After kissing him on the forehead once more, she sat down in the chair by his bed.

"Unless you want this baby born in Germany, I suggest that you wake up, because I'm not leaving here until you're ready to leave here," Mac stated stubbornly to a comatose Harm.

Exhausted from her trip and oddly feeling better just by being in the same room with him, Mac checked the chair that she was sitting in. It was the kind that reclined like the kind that they'd slept in when Tyler had been in the hospital.

Mac checked her internal clock. With the east coast time being six hours earlier, she couldn't use the excuse that it was too late to call, but she didn't know how much of what she'd learned that she wanted to share with the family. It really wasn't the entire family that she was concerned about. The adults wouldn't like the news any more than she did, but they'd want to hear the whole truth about his condition. It was what part of the information that they should share with the children that was her real concern.

Mac stood and stepped up to Harm's bed.

"I've got to step out and make a phone call. I'll be back in a few minutes, so don't you go anywhere," she said as she patted Harm's thigh, a spot free of bandages, IV lines and breathing tubes.

She kissed his forehead before making her way to the door. Then she stopped at the door and turned back to look at him. "It's okay for you to wake up while I'm gone though," she said before exiting his room.

**THE PHONE CALL**

Mac was relieved that Frank was the one who answered the phone.

"Frank, it's Mac."

"How is he?"

"Alive - a specialist is going to take a look at him in the morning. I should know more about what he's up against then."

"What do you know now?" Frank asked.

"He was shot in the shoulder, but the bullet's out and he's receiving antibiotics, so, aside from some physical therapy when he's up to it, they aren't giving that wound much attention right now. The part that has them worried is that he suffered a severe concussion and the swelling of his brain has caused him to slip into a coma. His condition has deteriorated in the last couple of hours to the point where putting him on a ventilator was necessary, but at the moment, his vital signs are stable and they're calling his condition stable, but serious."

"Harriet brought over a casserole and a pie for us tonight and wanted someone to call them when we'd heard from you. The news broke on ZNN this afternoon, too, so others may call in the next few days when the press gets a list of the names. So, what do you want me to tell the family and your friends?" Frank questioned.

"If you don't tell Mattie everything, she'll sense that you're holding something back, so you might as well tell her everything up front."

"Trish, too," Frank injected.

"As far as friends go, including the Roberts...tell them that his condition is...stable, but serious, but skip the details. Harm can tell them what he wants them to know when he's feeling better."

"How about the children? What do you want me to tell them?" Frank asked.

That was the hard one. How much should their young children know about their father's condition?

Mac inhaled deeply.

"Tell them that Harm is hurt and that he's sleeping, so I haven't been able to talk to him, but I talked to his doctor and that they're doing everything that they can to make him better. Tell them that I love them and that I'll try to call and talk to them tomorrow evening."

**AFTER THE CALL**

**HARM'S ROOM**

Though the seat wasn't as comfortable as her first-class accommodations on the flight over, courtesy of her father-in-law, Mac was thankful that the chair wasn't one of those hard plastic ones that offered very little back support and no cushion as she reclined the chair.

Mac sat back, staring at her husband in the weakest state in which she'd ever seen him, until her eyes, too heavy with sleep to stay open, closed and she drifted off.

*The depiction of Harm's arrival is based on a 2007 article "The German Front in the Iraq War" by Ullrich Fichtner and translated from German by Christopher Sultan.


	85. Chapter 85

**PART FIVE**

**TUESDAY, JUNE 17, 2008**

**ICU**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

**1300 LOCAL - 0700 EASTERN**

Mac looked up from her seat next to Harm's bed to see a nurse who'd just entered the room. Had something changed that she couldn't see...hadn't noticed?

"No change, Ma'am. I've just come in to check his IV. They'll be taking him to surgery soon," the nurse replied to Mac's unasked question as she moved to examine the amount of liquid remaining in one of the IV bags.

Emotion caught in Mac's throat, and she could offer only a nod in response to the nurse as she recalled her meeting with another of Harm's doctors earlier today.

******FLASHBACK******

"Mrs. Rabb, I'm Doctor Robbins. I'm the neurologist who examined your husband this morning and, after that exam, reviewing your husband's MRI and consulting with a colleague, we think that the best hope for your husband's recovery is to relieve some of the pressure on his brain by removing the fluid that's built up."

"What are the risks of that procedure?" Mac asked flatly. This wasn't a time to be emotional. She needed to hear what the doctor was purposing and understand the risks.

"There are the usual risks associated with any surgery...risk of infection at the incision site, for example-"

Mac cut him off. "- and death."

Dr. Robbins nodded affirmatively before speaking again.

"Aside from the usual, the risks of this particular procedure are significant in that there are several ways that the procedure can go wrong, the results ranging from blindness or paralysis to death."

The doctor paused, giving Mac time to absorb the information that he'd just given her before continuing.

"Your husband is in a coma, and his condition has deteriorated to the point that he's on a ventilator. Without more aggressive treatment, we believe that his condition will continue to decline and we may lose him if we don't perform the surgery. So, in your husband's case, I believe that the chance that something might go wrong during the procedure is outweighed by the possible benefit that would be achieved in order to give your husband a better chance of recovering."

The doctor stopped speaking to give Mac time to assess her thoughts and ask any questions.

"When would you do the procedure?" Mac asked.

"I don't want to wait, but I do have another patient to see first, so, if you give your consent, I'll do the procedure later this afternoon," Dr. Robbins informed Mac.

"How long after the procedure will it be before we'll know if it was successful?" Mac asked calmly.

"Each patient is different, but we usually see some kind of improvement in the first six to eight hours. The most common sign is that we're able to remove the ventilator because the patient doesn't need it to assist his breathing any longer."

"When do they usually wake up?" Mac asked, her previously steady voice cracking slightly this time.

"As his wife, I'm sure that you're hoping that I'll tell you that he'll wake up within a few hours of the procedure, but the fact is that, though it _could_ happen, it's very doubtful that it _will_ happen. What I will tell you is that a steady positive change in his vital signs wouldn't be just an indicator that the procedure was successful, but a very strong sign that he's going to regain consciousness eventually," Dr. Robbins said in response to her question.

********END FLASHBACK********

Mac realized that the nurse was speaking to her, and she pulled herself back to the present.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" Mac asked, requesting that the nurse repeat herself.

"I was just saying that you haven't left this room since I came on duty today. You should go get something to eat. This kind of thing is hard on anyone, but you really need to take special care of yourself."

Mac noticed that, as the nurse was speaking, she looked towards her belly. She was concerned about her and the baby.

"I should go and at least get some juice or something. My husband is always telling me that I really mess with my metabolism and blood sugar when I don't eat or drink anything at regular intervals," Mac said.

"But you don't want to leave him right now," the nurse stated, seeming to understand Mac's hesitancy to leave the room.

"If the surgery doesn't go well, this might be the last time that I get to see him," Mac said softly.

The nurse nodded in understanding before leaving the room. However, she returned a few minutes later and offered Mac a juice box.

"Maybe you can get something more substantial when they take him to surgery."

Mac took the offered juice.

"Do you know when they'll be coming for him?"

"In about thirty minutes," the nurse replied.

Mac nodded as she took a sip of the juice before lifting the box in the nurse's direction. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the nurse replied softly before leaving the woman alone to be with her husband in case this was the final half hour of his life.

Mac hadn't realized that she was so thirsty and quickly finished the juice.

She stood to throw away the box and then moved to stand next to Harm's bed.

Mac stood there, staring down at her comatose husband for only a few moments before she reached out to touch him.

She lifted her hand to Harm's forehead and brushed back his hair.

"They're going to take you to surgery soon. Don't you make me tell our girls that they've lost another father. Don't you do that to me ... to them! You hear me?" Mac's tone was commanding. She was ordering him not to leave her.

She then grew silent as she stared at his face for the next few moments, taking in each of his features, etching them into her mind in case this was the last time that she got to see him alive.

She didn't keep track of the time...of how much longer it would be before they took him to surgery. She just stood there, touching his face, kissing his forehead, skimming her fingers over his unshaven cheek or just staring at him until the nurse stepped into the room.

"It's time," the nurse stated softly.

Mac leaned close to his face.

"I love you. I need for you to come back to me," she whispered in his ear. She kissed him on the temple and then moved aside.

"Ma'am, if you'll wait for me at the desk, I'll be there in just a moment," the nurse said as two orderlies moved into position to take Harm to the OR.

**AT THE DESK**

Mac stood at the desk, staring down at the counter.

She'd found a pen to focus on to keep her from looking towards his door.

She couldn't watch them wheel him away. 'That would be too much for me,' she thought.

"Where are they taking Captain Rabb?" Mac heard a man ask.

"We've told you before, Corporal. We can't give you any information on Captain Rabb or his condition."

Mac turned and saw a twenty-something young man standing at the other end of the desk.

Mac stepped closer to him.

"Do you know Captain Rabb, Corporal?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am, well, no, Ma'am...I mean, I was with him, Ma'am...in Iraq, I mean."

The young man seemed tongue-tied, and Mac didn't understand why she'd be so intimidating when she wasn't in a uniform.

"You were with the captain in the convoy when it was attacked?" Mac asked.

When the young man turned to fully face her, she saw that his arm was in a cast and added, "Is that how your arm was broken?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but my damned ribs hurt worse than my arm. Sorry, Ma'am," the young man said, apologizing for his language.

"It's okay. I've heard worse. Broken arm and some ribs, it doesn't sound like you were injured too badly in the attack, Corporal."

"Actually, the broken ribs weren't a result of the attack, well, not the first one, anyway. I didn't see an insurgent at my flank. Captain Rabb yelled at me to take cover, and I hit the ground. They both got off a shot, and that's when the captain got hit in the shoulder, but the captain's shot took the guy down. The guy fell on me, the butt of his rifle hitting me in the back and, with his weight on top of that, two of my ribs were broken, but hey, six to eight weeks, and I'll be good as new. I wouldn't be here to tell the story if it weren't for Captain Rabb. I've been asking the nurses how he's doing, but they won't tell me anything. I'm headed home for some R&R while the arm and ribs heal, and then I'll be returning to my unit in Iraq. I was hoping that I'd get to see the captain and thank him for saving my life before I left Germany."

"If you're leaving tomorrow, Corporal, I don't think that you'll have a chance to see him before you head home, but I'll let my husband know that you checked on him and pass along your thanks when he gets out of surgery."

"That's where they were taking him, Ma'am...surgery? Is he going to be okay?"

"His doctors seem to believe that, once he's had this procedure, it'll take him a few days, but that he'll rally to cause me to worry about him another day," Mac said, chuckling slightly, knowing that there was no reason to pass on her fears about her husband to this young man who'd be returning to combat soon.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I shouldn't be keeping you. My mother would whip me for having such bad manners. Can I get you something, Ma'am? Anything at all?" Lansing asked.

"No, I'm fine, Corporal, but thank you," Mac replied.

"Mrs. Rabb, if you're ready, I'll take you to the waiting room where you can wait for word on your husband," the nurse who'd brought her the juice said.

"Thank you," Mac replied before turning back to the corporal.

"I'll go to the chapel and say a little prayer for him right now," the corporal said to the captain's wife.

"Thank you, Corporal..." Mac paused, realizing that she didn't know his name.

"Lansing, Ma'am," he responded.

"Thank you, Corporal Lansing," Mac said before turning to follow the nurse.

**ICU**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

**2000 LOCAL - 1400 EASTERN**

After Doctor Robbins had finished the procedure, he spoke to Mac. He told her that Harm had come through it without any complications and that now came the hard part - more waiting.

Doctor Robbins had been very specific and had repeated several times that he wasn't expecting Harm's eyes to just pop open miraculously. It happened that way only in the movies. It would be small things that they'd be looking for at first. Stronger vital signs and more brainwave activity, for instance, would be signs that he was doing better.

Mac had been sitting with Harm in the hours since they'd returned him to his ICU room, hoping that the doctor had been wrong and that one of the times that she'd get up to stroke his hair or place a kiss on his forehead, his eyes would just pop open.

No matter how unrealistic it was, she still hoped for a spontaneous awakening.

Mac hadn't called the family to tell them that Harm was having surgery, but as the hours ticked away without any change, she was starting to wonder what she _should_ tell them.

She thought about not calling home at all, but that might be worse for her family than hearing about what they'd done.

Mac stood and leaned down close to her husband's face.

"It's getting late here, and I'd like to try to get some sleep, so I'm going to step out and call home, but I'll be back in a few minutes," she said before kissing his forehead.

**THE PHONE CALL**

Mac couldn't believe her luck. Frank had answered the phone again. She hadn't known if she could keep it together if Trish or Mattie had answered the phone and she'd had to give a report to one of them.

"Frank, it's Mac."

"How is he?"

"He's about the same."

"What did the specialist say?" Frank asked.

"That we might lose him if they didn't relieve some of the pressure on his brain, so, this afternoon, they performed a procedure to do just that."

"Did it work?" Frank questioned.

"Too soon to tell, but he isn't doing any worse."

"Then I'll tell everyone that his condition is unchanged," Frank stated.

"Thanks, Frank."

"How are you holding up?" Frank questioned Mac.

"I'm hanging in there," Mac said quietly with a sigh.

Frank knew that Mac must be exhausted and feeling a million different things right now, but he had to give it to the woman. She was one strong lady.

"Mac, I don't want you to worry. If it gets too bad, I'll move the family to a hotel, but I think that you ought to know that reporters have been calling the house. It seems that someone who was there is claiming that Harm did more to get the survivors killed than he did to get them to safety, and he wants Harm to face charges. Saying 'no comment' to these guys doesn't seem like I'm standing up for my son, and I don't want them to think that I believe what I'm hearing for one second. What should I say to defend him without making it sound like I'm giving credence to the accusations?"

"Don't say anything. Stop answering the phone. I'll call you on your cell phone from now on. Tell the children that I called, but that I had to cut my call short today and that I'll talk to them tomorrow," Mac said hurriedly.

"What's wrong, Mac?"

"Nothing, Frank, I've just been sitting on my hands waiting because I can't do anything for Harm since I'm not a doctor, but if someone is smearing Harm's reputation, I _can_ do something about that. I met someone this afternoon who told me that Harm saved his life, but he also told me that he's leaving for home tomorrow. Since I don't know what time he's leaving, I'm going to have to see him tonight. I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow."

**COPORAL LANSING'S HOSPITAL ROOM**

**2030 LOCAL - 1430 EASTERN**

Mac knocked lightly on the closed door before pushing it open.

"Corporal Lansing?" Mac said softly into the room.

If he was sleeping, she didn't want to wake him.

"Ma'am?" Lansing said, throwing back the covers as if he were going to snap to attention.

Mac waved him down.

"Please don't get up on my account. I just came to ask you a few questions ... if you're feeling up to it."

"I don't know what I can tell you, Ma'am, but anything that I can do to help you or the captain...ask away, Ma'am."

Lansing was smiling widely, eager to help.

"You told me this afternoon that you believe that my husband saved your life, but I was wondering if you thought that he did everything that he could to get you to safety." Mac realized as she asked her question that it was much harder to question someone when you had nothing, not even an initial report to consult first, giving you some idea of what had happened and thus helping you to ask the right questions to get to the truth.

"We lost three Marines in the mortar attack, Ma'am, and Captain Rabb took charge with nine survivors, and we're all still alive, Ma'am. So, in my book, he did everything just right, Ma'am."

"You said earlier that you got flanked by an insurgent. Do you think that decisions that Captain Rabb made were in any way responsible for the survivors being attacked by insurgents?"

"Ma'am, are you sure that you're Captain Rabb's wife? It sounds like you're questioning me."

"Forgive me, Corporal Lansing. It's a leftover from my previous career. I was a Marine Corps JAG. I didn't mean to make it sound as if I were impeaching the captain. It's just that, when I called home a few minutes ago, I found out that reporters are calling my home, asking for comments concerning the assertion that my husband didn't do enough to get all of you to safety. Since I can't ask my husband any questions, I was hoping that you could shed some light on the subject."

"I was there on my second tour, Ma'am, and the one thing that I've learned over there is, if you survive a close call, you don't question if you should've done something different - whatever you did must have been right or you wouldn't still be breathing. So, in my opinion, whatever the captain did, whatever we did was the right thing, Ma'am," Corporal Lansing said sincerely, pausing for a heartbeat before asking, "How is the captain, Ma'am?"

"No change as of yet, but we're hopeful," Mac responded. "You should get some rest now, Corporal. Do you know what time you'll be leaving tomorrow?"

"They tell me 1300, Ma'am."

"I'll try to come by before then and let you know how he's doing."

"Thank you, Ma'am. I'd appreciate that very much."

"Good night, Corporal," Mac said before turning to leave the room.

"Good night, Ma'am," the corporal replied to Mac's back as she exited.

Mac had taken a few steps down the corridor when she heard the young man's voice again. "Mrs. Rabb, Ma'am?"

Mac turned to see Corporal Lansing approaching with something in his extended hand.

As he took another step closer, Mac realized that it was a newspaper.

"Ma'am, I guess you haven't seen a paper recently. Take this and read it. Just know that, if you ask me, the man doesn't know what he's talking about!"

"What man doesn't know what he's talking about, Corporal?" Mac asked as she took the offered newspaper.

"In the article, he's listed as an inside source at the State Department, but his name is Davenport. He was with us, and he complained the whole time. If someone is after Captain Rabb, it's him, Ma'am. Good night again, Ma'am."

"Good night, Corporal Lansing," she said before the young man turned to head back to his room.

**ICU**

**HARM'S ROOM**

**2100 LOCAL - 1500 EASTERN**

Mac entered Harm's room and, after she'd kissed him on the forehead, she stood next to his bed, staring at the monitors.

Did any of the noises that they were making mean that he was doing better?

After five minutes of staring at the monitors, she remembered the newspaper in her hand.

"Your new friend, or maybe that should be new fan, Corporal Lansing, gave me this newspaper. He says that there's an article in here that's a must read."

Mac sat down in the chair and started to read the article aloud to Harm.

After reading the article, Mac refolded the newspaper as she thought aloud, "Apparently, you made some guy from the State Department very upset, and he's calling for your head on a platter, but I got the idea towards the end that he'd settle for ending your career. Is that what you got out of the article, too?"

One of the monitors started to beep rapidly. One monitor that had been showing a series of short waves was now spiking tall peaks. What did it mean? Was it an improvement ... or the opposite?

A nurse came in and looked at the monitor before leaving the room, mumbling, "I need for you to step outside, Mrs. Rabb. I'm going to get the doctor."

**FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER**

Mac had sat in one of those hard plastic chairs that she despised. They were spaced in threes between the ICU room doors, but either nerves or discomfort had caused her get up after a few minutes and pace in front of the row of chairs. Then fatigue would force her to sit back down to get a second wind, and then she'd stand again. She'd been doing that for forty-five minutes.

Mac had just stood to start pacing again when motion near Harm's door caught her attention. When she looked in that direction, her eyes met with Doctor Taggert's.

"How is he?" Mac questioned the doctor.

"Better, not awake yet, but better. If you'll follow me, we'll sit in some comfortable chairs while I fill you in on what's happened."

**CONSULTATION ROOM**

It was the same room as yesterday, and she sat in the same cushioned chair, thus forcing Dr. Taggert to sit in the same chair that he'd been in yesterday after her arrival when he'd briefed her on Harm's condition.

Anxious to hear what the doctor had to say, Mac sat on the edge of the seat, waiting impatiently for the doctor to explain what had happened.

"Since the procedure this afternoon, we've seen some improvement, but a little while ago, he had a major jump in his blood pressure and heart rate. The extreme change set off the beeping. It suggests that he was agitated or upset, but he's calmed down now. However, his brainwave activity and respiration show significant improvement," Doctor Taggert informed Mac.

"Does that mean that he's going to wake up soon?" Mac asked.

"It means that he's giving us positive signs that indicate that he's begun to fight his way back to the conscious world, so it was time for us to take the next step."

"Which was?" Mac asked.

"We removed the ventilator. His oxygen levels have stayed up and his other vital signs have remained strong and steady. So it's going to remain out for now, and that's a very good sign."

"Now we go back to waiting," Mac sighed.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Rabb, and I doubt that we'll get any more significant improvement tonight. So why don't I find you a place to lie down for a little while? A bed or a couch somewhere has got to be better than the chair in your husband's room."

"I appreciate the offer, Doctor, but I want to be with my husband, even if he doesn't know that I'm there."

"I understand, Ma'am, and unless you have any questions for me, you can go see him now."

"Thank you, Doctor," Mac said, standing up.

**HARM'S ROOM**

Mac entered Harm's room.

Without the ventilator in place, she could see his whole face. She bent down and placed her lips on his.

"Nice to see your handsome face, Sailor," she purred as she pulled her lips back slightly.

Mac could've sworn that his jaw twitched as if her breath had tickled his skin.

"I think that the baby and I need to take a little nap. You, on the other hand, need to keep working on waking up," Mac said before brushing her lips across his again before taking a seat and reclining back for what she hoped would be at least a few hours of sleep.


	86. Chapter 86

**PART SIX**

**WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18, 2008**

**ICU**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

**1030 LOCAL - 0430 EASTERN**

Around ten last night, the doctor removed the ventilator, and Harm's been doing well without it for just over twelve hours now.

The surgical procedure has apparently done exactly what the doctor had hoped.

No longer needing the ventilator was the first sign that Harm was going to recover from this ordeal. The next event occurred just moments ago when the doctor upgraded his condition from serious but stable to just stable. He also told Mac that Harm's vital signs were getting stronger and, though Harm might not be waking up in the next few hours, he believed that he'd be coming out of his comatose state and entering a lighter state of unconsciousness, another step in the right direction.

After hearing what the doctor had said, Mac was feeling more positive that it was no longer a question of _if _he was going to wake up, but _when_ he was going to wake up.

In fact, no longer fearing that Harm wasn't going to make it, she was feeling confident enough that she thought that she'd go visit with Corporal Lansing.

**COPORAL LANSING'S ROOM**

**1045 LOCAL - 0445 EASTERN**

Corporal Lansing's door was open, and Mac walked in, clutching the newspaper that he'd given her the night before.

Lansing was stretched out on his hospital bed, looking relaxed and well rested.

"Corporal Lansing, how are you feeling this morning?" Mac asked as she approached his bed.

Lansing scrambled to get to his feet, not obeying Mac's wave-off for him to remain lying down.

"Fine, Ma'am, and ready to get out of this place," Lansing responded in his first breath. In his second, he said, "How is the captain this morning, Ma'am?"

"Though he isn't up for visitors, he's doing much better this morning," Mac replied.

"I'm glad to hear it, Ma'am. I'm sure that he's relieved that he can see again."

"What do you mean by see again, Corporal?"

Corporal Lansing had seen the color fade from Mac's face at hearing the news that he hadn't been seeing well after the attack, and he tried to explain his statement.

"It's just that the captain hit his head so hard that he was having trouble seeing after the attack, and it never really cleared up as far as I know before they found us. So, if he's doing better and he has someone as pretty as you to look at, that's got to be keeping his spirits up when someone's trying to bury him in sh...the smelly stuff, Ma'am."

Mac offered a polite smile at the corporal's compliment.

"How are you this morning, Ma'am?" Lansing asked, wanting to move off a subject that the captain might have been trying to keep from his wife.

Mac had been taken aback by the news that her husband had been having trouble seeing before he fell into the coma, and she briefly let the thought enter her head that blindness was also one of the potential risks from the surgery.

Was Harm going to be visually impaired or blind when he came out of this coma? He was alive. He was in one piece. Bud Roberts was a reminder that it wasn't always the case. 'Quite frankly, I prefer blind to dead', she thought.

"I'm fine, Corporal. Thank you for asking," Mac said, pushing the thoughts of blindness and death out of her mind.

Her fist wrapped tightly around the newspaper, wadding it up, she remembered another reason why she'd come.

She lifted her arm, offering him the newspaper. "I also wanted to return your newspaper," Mac stated calmly, having regained her composure.

"You can keep it if you want," Corporal Lansing offered.

"Thank you," Mac said, lowering her arm. "I'd like to send my condolences to the families of the three Marines who were killed in the attack and check on the condition of the others. All their names are in the article, so I would like to keep it."

"I can help you with information on some of the others, Ma'am," Lansing began. "PFC Carter and Private Winters were checked out by the medics. They probably managed to get out of patrol duty for a couple of days, but they didn't have more than a few bruises, so they're still in Iraq with the unit, Ma'am. The rest of the group came here, Ma'am."

"Then that gives me a place to start, doesn't it, Corporal?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but I don't know if everyone is still here. I overheard some things, Ma'am. That troublemaker from the State Department and Mr. Macmillan weren't hurt, and though they were on the flight with me and the captain, it was only a pit stop for them. They were stateside bound after a once over by the docs here. Then there was the quiet man. We called him that because he didn't talk. Captain Rabb said that he was a campaign aide. The medics said that they couldn't find anything physically wrong with him, but he wouldn't talk to anyone...he couldn't or wouldn't even tell the medics his name. I don't know if they kept him here or sent him stateside since he didn't have any apparent injuries, Ma'am."

"You've certainly made it easier for me. I have only three left to check on, Corporal. Thank you."

"I'm glad that I could help, Ma'am. If you think of anything else that I can help with, Ma'am, I'll be here for a few more hours, so don't hesitate to let me know."

"I'll do that...and, Corporal, good luck to you," Mac said to wrap up her visit. She'd been gone long enough that she wanted to get back to Harm's room.

"Thank you, Ma'am...and tell the captain that I'm glad to hear that he's feeling better."

"I'll tell him that when he wakes up, Corporal. You take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Lansing replied before Mac said goodbye and left his room.

**ICU**

**HARM'S ROOM**

**1115 LOCAL - 0515 EASTERN**

Mac entered Harm's room, moved to his bedside, leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

"I had a nice talk with Corporal Lansing while I was gone. He's going stateside for some R&R while he recovers, but he's going to be just fine."

Mac stepped over to the chair and sat down, resuming her watch over her husband.

She pushed the newspaper into a side pocket of her purse. When she took her next break to walk around and stretch her legs, she'd see if she could find out anything about the three other people who'd been in the mortar attack with her husband. She knew that Harm would want to know the condition of 'his men' when he woke up.

**1300 LOCAL - 0700 EASTERN**

Mac had dozed off and was startled awake when a nurse came into the room.

Mac jumped to her feet. "Has there been a change?" she asked before she felt herself starting to sway.

"Mrs. Rabb, are you okay?" The nurse questioned, making her way over to assist her patient's wife.

"I think so," Mac said before the nurse grabbed her arm, steadying her. "I just got a little dizzy, that's all."

"Why don't you sit back down? I'm going to get a wheelchair and take you down to have an OB look you over," the nurse said calmly.

"That isn't necessary. I'm sure that I just stood up too fast."

"To be on the safe side, let's have a doctor check you out anyway. We don't want to take any chances with you or the baby," the nurse stated.

What could Mac say to that?

The nurse was looking out for her and their baby, and she was right. It was better to be sure that the baby was doing well.

"Okay...to make sure that the baby's all right," Mac said, giving in.

All at once, Harm's monitors began to beep at a higher pitch and at a more rapid pace.

"Take care of him," Mac said, trying to free herself from the woman at her side so that the nurse would check on Harm.

"It's another jump in his heart rate as if he's agitated about something," the nurse began as she got Mac settled into the chair before moving over to inspect the monitors more closely.

"You can wake up any time and check on them yourself," the nurse said as if talking to Harm. "I'm going to get your wife and child checked out. We aren't bringing you out of this coma to tell you that we lost one of them ... not on my watch. It ain't going to happen," the nurse said, continuing to speak to Harm while making notes in his chart.

After making a few notes, the nurse turned to Mac.

"You just sit there and relax. I'm going to be back with that wheelchair in a couple of minutes."

Mac nodded to acknowledge what the nurse had said and in acceptance that she was going to see a doctor ... whether she wanted to or not.

It was two minutes and fourteen seconds later when a different nurse came in, followed by the doctor. Then the original nurse came in with a wheelchair.

"While the doctor is giving your husband a going over, let's go get you checked out," the nurse with the wheelchair said, the care in her voice evident.

The last thing that Mac heard as she was wheeled from Harm's room was the doctor saying, "Captain Rabb, I think that you're ahead of schedule, but if you're ready to wake up, you go right ahead."

**MOMENTS LATER**

Harm's thoughts were jumbled, and he was having trouble processing them.

Harm could hear sounds.

Beeps, buzzes and, in the mix, he thought he heard voices, but he couldn't be sure because, if they were speaking, he couldn't make out any words.

Maybe they were far away.

Then again, his head was throbbing. Maybe the noises were from inside his head.

Harm was getting frustrated by his inability to think clearly and decided that it was best if he just took a deep breath.

In the moments that he took to try to calm himself and let his mind clear, he realized that he was indeed hearing voices.

He put all of his energy into concentrating on the voices.

It took a few moments, but he started to be able to make out a few of the words that they were saying: condition...unconscious...MRI...brain function.

It was medical speak.

He must be in a hospital.

He knew that, to let them know that he could hear them, it would be necessary for him to open his eyes, but that simple task was more than he could do at the moment.

In fact, his brief struggle to rejoin the conscious world had taken its toll on him, and his mind slipped back to a sleeping state.

The good news, whether Harm knew it or not, was that he was no longer in a coma, but simply sleeping.

**1600 LOCAL - 1000 EASTERN**

The nurse who'd given Mac the juice box yesterday was just starting her shift and was making notes in Harm's record when Mac entered the room, causing her to look up to see who'd entered.

"Mrs. Rabb, I heard that you were taken downstairs for a checkup. How are you feeling?"

Harm's heart rate started to increase, his mind picking up the words "Mrs. Rabb" and "check up" that motivated his mind to try once more to join the conversation. He needed to find out if Mac was okay.

"I got dizzy earlier, and that caused the nurse who was here to be concerned, but after listening to the baby's heartbeat and monitoring my vital signs for the last couple of hours, the doctor said that she couldn't find anything wrong with me or the baby, so, after giving me a lecture on taking better care of myself during this stressful time, she released me," Mac replied as she came to stand next to Harm's bed.

Mac's voice penetrated Harm's sleeping consciousness. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't do it.

There had to be a way to let them know that he could hear them.

He tried to move a finger, but, if it moved, which he couldn't be sure, they hadn't noticed.

He needed to try something else.

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. However, he did make an audible moan that quickly had both the nurse and Mac's attention.

"Harm, what did you say?" Mac asked, placing her hand on his left hand, the one protruding from the sling.

Harm's relief that he'd been heard was masked by his agitation that he'd failed to get his wife's name out clearly, and it was this agitated state that was being reflected by his blood pressure increasing dramatically and causing the monitor alarm to go off.

"Harm, relax. It's okay. The baby and I are okay," Mac said in a soothing voice just above a whisper, the voice that she used to soothe their young son.

Harm tried again to speak.

"Mac," came out in a dry, raspy croak.

The nurse was a little surprised that the first word that the man said was "Mac". She would've thought that it would be his wife's name or something generic like dear or honey.

"Yes, Harm, I'm here. Can you open your eyes? Will you do that for me...open your eyes?"

The nurse shrugged. 'Strange term of endearment for your wife, "Mac," but to each his own,' she thought as she left the room to go tell the doctor that it looked like their patient was in the process of waking up.

Harm tried to open his eyes.

Mac saw his eyelids flutter.

"That's it, Harm. Let me see those beautiful bedroom eyes of yours," Mac said, hoping that her words would encourage him to wake up. She'd have offered him anything he wanted if she'd thought that a bribe would work. She wanted her husband back.

Dr. Taggert and the nurse entered the room.

"Mrs. Rabb -" Dr. Taggert began.

"I want to be with him when he wakes up. Please don't make me leave," Mac pleaded.

"I just want to assess his current condition, and that's always easier for us when family members wait outside."

Mac nodded.

She leaned over. "I'll be right outside the door," she said before placing her lips on his.

She pulled her lips from his and whispered, "I love you," before pulling back from his side.

Harm felt the loss of contact with her.

"Love you..." Harm mumbled as he tried once more to open his eyes, but Mac was already outside his room.

"Welcome back, Captain Rabb. How are you feeling?" Dr. Taggert said, looking down into the open eyes of his patient.

"Not ... sure ..." Harm replied.

"I'll bet that you have one hell of a headache and that your shoulder hurts," Dr. Taggert said, as much to see if his patient comprehended his words as it was to make conversation.

"Right on ... both counts," Harm said, finding that he had a stronger voice, though his throat was dry and sore.

"You'll probably discover that you have a lot of other little aches and pains as you get a little more oriented, but your head and shoulder are the biggest ones," Dr. Taggert said, taking his penlight out of his lab coat pocket and lifting it to a position in front of Harm's right eye. "Captain Rabb, I want you to follow the light with your eyes for me.

"What light?" Harm asked.

Up until that point, Harm had thought - or maybe he'd hoped - that the room was just dark.

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Mac hadn't sat down this time, and she was standing just a few steps from Harm's door when Dr. Taggert stepped outside Harm's room.

"How is he, doctor?" Mac asked anxiously.

"He's awake," the doctor replied, but it lacked enthusiasm, causing Mac's stomach to start forming knots.

"But..." she said hesitantly.

"Maybe we should go have a seat."

"No, Doctor, I don't want to take up any more of your time or mine than necessary. I want to get in there and see my husband, so just tell me here and now what I need to know before I go in to see him."

"Your husband's vision is impaired." Dr. Taggert began. He knew that the captain's wife had taken all the news that they'd given her thus far with grace and had displayed great strength, but he didn't want to blurt out that her husband was blind. He wanted to ease her into the news.

"The cause of the loss of his sight is unknown at the moment," Taggert continued.

"Are you trying to tell me that my husband is blind, Dr. Taggert?" Mac asked, trying to get to the point. He'd said that Harm was awake, and she wanted to get back in there with him.

"Yes. I've put in a call to Dr. Robbins, the neurologist. He should be able to determine if it's caused by the swelling and temporary or if it's a complication from the procedure to release the pressure on his brain and might be permanent."

"Other than his blindness, is there anything that I need to know before I see him?"

"No, other than the blindness, he's doing very well."

"Thank you, Doctor," Mac said, taking steps to walk past him and into her husband's room.

**HARM'S ROOM**

The nurse hadn't left his room, and Mac entered the room as if on cue, hearing Harm ask about her.

"I know that I hit my head pretty hard a couple of times, but I thought that I heard my wife's voice. Was my mind playing tricks on me or is she really here?"

"You aren't crazy, if that's what you're trying to ask the nurse. I'm here," Mac said cheerfully as she released the door and moved towards him.

"Are you and the baby okay?" Harm asked, remembering what he'd heard, but not knowing if it was in his dreams or reality.

She leaned over and placed her lips on his.

"We're fine," she replied when she pulled her lips away.

"You shouldn't have come. You shouldn't be here," Harm said.

"It's where you are, so why shouldn't I be here?"

"Mac, the flight alone with you being pregnant..." Harm's voice trialed off.

Mac put her hand on his forehead and started to stroke his hair.

"Harm, I'm fine. The baby is fine, and I couldn't stay home when you were here anymore than you could've stayed home if this situation were reversed," Mac explained.

"Mac...you should go home. There's nothing that you can do here. You're more useful to me at home."

Harm's words came out harsh, but Mac was sure that it had more to do with his trying to deal with his blindness than it had to do with her, so she was determined not to react to his tone.

Mac had also decided before she'd reentered his room that she wouldn't mention his blindness. If he brought it up, they'd talk about it, but it would be his choice to discuss it.

"Sami would disagree with you. She wanted me to come to make sure that the doctors took good care of her daddy," Mac said, trying to lighten his mood.

Harm got choked up at the thought that he might never _see_ his little girl again..._see_ any of his children or be able to _see_ their latest creation come into this world.

Mac saw the tears begin to seep out of the corners of Harm's eyes, dripping back towards his pillow.

"Harm, what is it? Are you in pain? Should I get the doctor?" Mac asked, concerned.

"I don't need the doctor, but I need for you to go," Harm said softly.

"Why?" Mac asked, confused.

"I...I can't...I can't see you, Mac," Harm choked out, his voice filled with sadness.

Mac leaned over and placed her cheek against his and whispered in his ear, "I love you whether you can see or not...please don't push me away."

"I love you, too, Mac, but I need time to deal with this on my own first."

Mac straightened her back, standing more upright.

"I'll make you a deal," she began before pausing to stifle a sniffle. "Let me stay until the neurologist evaluates your condition and gives us a prognosis."

Harm nodded his agreement to the deal.

"You should probably get some rest," Mac said.

Harm closed his eyes and again offered no words, only a nod in agreement.

Mac kissed him on the forehead before sitting down in the chair.

She sat silently for ten minutes and eleven seconds - until she was sure that he was asleep - then she stood and fled his room, walking quickly to the nearest restroom where she walked in, locked herself in a stall and let go of the tears that had been building for days.

Mac knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she knew that having a blind husband was something that she could handle.

Her fear was that Harm couldn't handle being a blind husband and father. Had he awakened only to leave her in another way? Would he want to come home to her and their children?

The tears flowed freely as she sobbed uncontrollably until she had no more tears left to cry. Then she washed her face, combed her hair and donned her strong woman persona before leaving the ladies room.

On her way back to Harm's room, she decided to go to the cafeteria to get a bottle of water.

She wasn't hungry at the moment, but she also purchased an apple and a banana for later if she felt up to eating.

With a good cry out of the way and a snack in hand, she returned to Harm's room, but one of the nurses stopped her from entering because Dr. Robbins was in there examining Harm.

Mac decided to use the time wisely. She'd call home now and, that way, since she didin't have definitive information about it, she wouldn't have to tell them about the blindness.

If Dr. Robbins said that the condition was permanent, she'd wait to tell the family that news face-to-face when she got home.

**THE PHONE CALL**

Frank picked up his cell phone on the third ring.

"Mac, how is he?" Frank asked, not even bothering to say hello first.

"He's awake, and the doctor says that he's doing well."

She could hear Frank's heavy sigh of relief through the phone before he said, "That's great news."

"Yes, it is, and I hope to have more news soon. The neurologist is examining him now, so I hope to have a better idea of whether they'll be transferring him to Bethesda or keeping him here, how long he'll have to be in the hospital and a few other things by the time I call tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow's call already. Do you think that Harm might be up to talking to the children by tomorrow?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to talk to them now."

"Of course, do you have a preference as to the order?" Frank questioned, already moving through the house to where the children were watching a movie.

"No, I just want to tell all of them that Harm is doing better and that I hope that he'll be able to talk to them soon."

"Mattie's in her room, so I'll go get her and fill in Trish while you talk to Ty...here he is," Frank said before she heard him say: "Momma wants to talk to each of you. Ty, you go first."

When Mac ended her phone call home, she felt better. Hearing her children's voices had restored some of her strength, and she was ready to face the news that the doctor had for them.

When Mac entered Harm's room, he was asleep.

She knew that he needed to rest, so she didn't want to risk waking him by giving him the usual kiss. She just slipped quietly into the chair and tried to relax.

Mac wasn't just letting him rest. She also didn't want to wake him because, if Dr. Robbins had given him any news about his sight, she'd have to start to make arrangements to leave in order to fulfill her part of the bargain.

It was better to let him sleep so that she could stay as long as possible.

Mac watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, wishing that she could lie with him, place her head on his chest and feel his arms around her, comforting her, protecting her.

She sighed and reclined her chair.

He wasn't able to do that now, but she could dream about the day when they'd be together like that again - at home in their own bed.


	87. Chapter 87

**PART SEVEN **

**THURSDAY, JUNE 19, 2008**

**ICU**

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**RANSTEIN AIR BASE **

**0630 LOCAL - 0030 EASTERN**

The room was dark to him now and, once Harm opened his eyes, it would remain dark.

However, he opened his eyes anyway, thinking about the fact that it wouldn't change his view.

He opened and closed his eyelids several times, hoping that it was just a bad dream, but after several attempts to see a shimmer of light - anything, Harm closed his eyes and kept them closed.

With his eyelids shut, Harm's thoughts turned to what his life would be like as a blind husband and father.

'Mac and my children deserve so much more than just a man taking up space around them.' His next thought was, 'I can't imagine not being with them as an active member of the family.'

Doctor Robbins had come in after he'd come out of the coma, but he'd reserved any comment until after some tests had been run this morning and he'd had a chance to review them.

Harm offered up a silent prayer that the blindness was temporary.

He knew that men had to deal with things like this everyday, but he didn't think that he was strong enough to handle the changes that overcoming his sightlessness would entail.

"Harm, you're awake." He heard Mac say.

In the darkness of Harm's blindness, he hadn't realized that he'd opened his eyes and that Mac could tell that he was awake.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he acknowledged.

She'd caught him with his eyes open, and he'd known that there was no way that he could deny that he was awake.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked her.

"Only long enough to take a short walk to stretch my legs," Mac answered as she moved to his bedside.

Harm felt the warmth of her breath on his skin just a fraction of a second before he felt her lips touch his.

He might not be able to see her, but his heart belonged to her, and his reaction to her gesture of love and support was automatic, his lips ready to meet hers.

When she felt the softness of his lips push against hers in response, it warmed her heart.

He might not be able to see her, but he'd been willing to accept her show of affection without any resistance. He loved her and she loved him and, right now, that's all that she needed to know.

When their lips parted, Harm spoke softly.

"Mac, will you do a couple of things for me today?"

Mac kept her face intimately near his as if they were talking in bed at home as she answered him.

"Of course. Anything you want me to do, just tell me what it is, and I'll get it done."

She was careful not to use the word 'need' in her reply. She thought that the word might have an adverse effect on his mood and, right now, he wasn't pushing her to go home, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"I know that three Marines died in the rocket attack, but I want to see if you can find out anything about the others. At the very least, I want to know if everyone survived the insurgent attack."

"Everyone survived the insurgent attack," Mac answered.

"You know that for a fact?" Harm asked.

"I had a chance meeting with Corporal Lansing when they took you to surgery, and he told me that there were no causalities while you were in command."

"How badly was Lansing hurt?" Harm asked.

"He has a couple of broken ribs and a broken arm. They sent him home for some R&R while he recovers, but he's going to be fine."

"What about the others...Winters, Carter and the civilians? How did they fare?"

"The corporal gave me a newspaper that had an article in it that he thought might be of interest. I'll get it because I've made some notes on the paper and I don't want to get the names mixed up. It's in my purse next to the chair, so I'll be right back," Mac replied before kissing Harm quickly, too quickly for him to react before she pulled away from him.

Mac retrieved the newspaper and immediately returned to Harm's bedside.

Even though he couldn't see her, she knew that, through the connection that they shared, he'd feel her presence, and it would be of comfort to him.

Mac looked at her notes written around the article before speaking again. "Winters and Carter, the other two Marines, suffered no injuries and returned to their unit. The remaining seven survivors were brought here to Germany. I've already told you about Lansing's injuries, and you're aware of your own. As for the others, I couldn't get any official reports because of doctor/patient confidentially, but I did manage to find a nurse who verified the information that I got from your corporal, and I was able to get a few details about their conditions. A man from the State Department suffered a few minor scratches and bruises along with a 'terminal superior attitude' - the nurse's words, not mine -" Harm snorted, more in agreement with the assessment than anything else, Mac figured, based on what else the corporal had told her, so Mac continued, "- and another man with negligible injuries were checked out by the doctors here and, within a few hours, they were on a plane bound for the states. From what the corporal told me, those two would be Davenport and Macmillan. The presidential aide who the corporal called 'the quiet man' suffered a mental breakdown due to post traumatic stress and was kept here for twenty-four hours for observation before being sent to the US for treatment at a private clinic arranged for by his family. The only thing that she'd tell me about the photographer and the reporter was that they were going to be okay and, from the way she phrased her answer, I believe that they're still here in this hospital."

"You got all that information before I even asked. You've been a very busy woman, Mrs. Rabb," Harm teased.

"Well, I had to do something to keep myself occupied while I waited for you to wake up and I knew that you'd ask about them," Mac responded with a lilt in her voice. "While they're running tests on you this morning, I'll see if I can't find someone with loose lips to tell me more about the photographer and the reporter's conditions."

"Don't worry about doing any more. The information that you've gathered is enough, thank you. Besides, I have another assignment for you to do while I'm out of the room for testing."

"What else would you like for me to do?" Mac asked.

"I want you to do some shopping for me," Harm stated.

"Shopping for what?" Mac inquired quizzically.

"My plan was that, when the diplomatic tour ended here in Germany, I'd get the children something to take back with me, but that isn't going to be possible now, so I want you to go shopping and buy each of them a trinket that I can give them when I get home."

"You know that you being home will be gift enough for them."

"They know what happened?" Harm questioned before he got too choked with emotion to continue.

"The younger children know only that something didn't go right on Daddy's trip and that he got hurt. Mattie and your parents have more information because the attack on the convoy and the rescue made the news," Mac replied.

"What did the news reports say happened?" Harm asked.

"I haven't seen one. I just know what I've been told and what I read in the newspaper that the corporal gave me, and the article didn't give many details about the attack or the rescue," Mac answered. She wasn't sure at this point that she should inform him of the fact that Davenport was pointing a finger at him.

"Read the article to me," Harm stated firmly.

"You were there. You know what happened. Why do you want me to read it to you?"

"Ma-a-ac..." Harm drew out her name, and she knew that he'd translated her reluctance to read the article to mean that it contained something that she didn't want him to know, but that he needed to hear.

"Fine," Mac said with a huff before Harm heard her flick the newspaper, making it snap before she began to read the article to him.

As Mac read, Harm's heart rate and blood pressure started to climb, but not rapidly and not to the point where the alarms went off.

After Mac had finished reading the article, the first thing out of Harm's mouth was, "I can't believe that jackass."

"Davenport?" Mac inquired.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Harm spit out. "If I'd listened to him...done things his way...I would've had a Marine walking across the desert and into the hands of the insurgents by himself. Then we'd still have had to face them, but with one less man."

"Harm, maybe you should tell me what happened from the beginning while it's still fresh in your mind. I'll write it down for you so, if someone comes to question you about the situation, you'll have something to reference."

"What good will that do me, Mac? I can't see to read it," Harm said in a tone that was a combination of anger and frustration.

"No, but I can, or your attorney can if it comes to that. It can also be used to help you recall your version of the events," Mac replied calmly.

Mac took notes while Harm recounted the initial mortar attack and the highlights of the days that followed, including the attack on them by insurgents just hours before the good guys showed up. She'd just finished writing the last of his statements when they came to take Harm for testing.

When Harm was returned to his room after testing some time later, he'd wanted to stay awake until he heard what the doctor had to say about his sight, but he'd been exhausted by the morning's activities and fell asleep.

It was just as well that he'd fallen asleep.

It helped him pass the time without Mac in the room to talk to because she was still out on her shopping excursion.

While Harm dozed, Dr. Robbins was reviewing the test results and getting a consult on Harm's case before doing his afternoon rounds, at which time, he was going to give Harm the latest news.

**1415 LOCAL -****0715 EASTERN**

Mac entered Harm's room with shopping bags in hand.

She'd actually bought more than Harm had asked her to because she'd also bought gifts for Mattie and Harm's parents for all their help at home while she'd been in Germany.

"Mac?" Harm asked as he heard footsteps enter the room.

"Yes, it's me."

"What time is it?" Harm inquired.

"1415 local," Mac replied as she placed the shopping bags down next to the chair.

The room was awkwardly silent as Mac reached Harm's bedside and leaned over the rail to place her lips on his for a sweet kiss hello.

When their lips parted, Mac kept the distance between them intimate while fighting the urge to ask him about what the test results were, but it would be Harm who'd be the first one to break the silence.

"Doc Taggert says that I'm doing well and, unless Dr. Robbins finds something that he wants to keep an eye on, I should be out of ICU in a day or two." Harm paused for less than a second before continuing, "I was thinking about what you said about Sami wanting you here to make sure that the doctors took good care of me. So, I was thinking that, if you haven't made your return flight arrangements yet, may be you should stay until I'm moved out of ICU because, according to the doc, unless I have a setback of some kind, and he doesn't foresee anything like that happening, I could be transferred to Bethesda early next week. If you stayed until I'm out of ICU, you should still have enough time at home to reassure the kids that I'm okay and catch up on your sleep before I arrive stateside."

Harm had been rambling and he knew it, but he was concerned that his initial reaction of keeping her at arm's length would have her saying no to an adjustment in the deal for her to leave after Dr. Robbins' report.

"I'm sure that staying until you're out of ICU would make Sami feel better..." Mac said with a smile before quickly adding, "...and I'd like to stay. Besides, I haven't had time to make my flight arrangements yet."

Harm didn't have to see Mac's face to hear her smile when she spoke, and it caused the corners of his mouth to turn up, giving Mac just a hint of a smile before it disappeared and his facial expression became serious, though he didn't speak for several moments.

"Dr. Robbins hasn't been in yet to give me the results of the tests this morning. What do you suppose that means?" Harm asked nervously.

"I met Dr. Robbins and I got the impression that he's the kind of doctor who likes to be very thorough, even double checking himself or asking a colleague for input before giving his patient any news. So, I think that it means that he just wants to be sure that what he tells you is completely accurate, even if it means that you have to wait a little longer than you'd like to find out the results."

"Mac, I know that I asked you to do some shopping for me, but buying gifts for the children shouldn't have taken so long. If you didn't get around to making your flight arrangements, what else did you do?" Harm asked softly.

"I did a little nosing around about those last two civilians in the article. I know you said that I didn't have to, but I wanted to -"

"- be thorough," Harm said teasingly.

"Yes. The photographer had a wound that was infected. It was pretty bad and it was touch and go for him for the first thirty-six hours, but they say that he's going to make a full recovery. The reporter had knee surgery, but he's up and getting around already and will be just fine, too, and they're both still here at Landstuhl...and between phone calls, I got your shopping done. I also did a little shopping of my own."

"You're amazing. You know that?" Harm said, sounding in awe of the woman at his bedside.

"Well, thank you. You're pretty terrific yourself," Mac said before leaning over and kissing him on the forehead.

"I don't feel so terrific at the moment," Harm commented.

"With a big knot on your head and your arm in a sling, I'll bet that you don't...but trust me, you are," Mac said lovingly.

Harm smiled.

"So, are you going to tell me what I bought and for who and how much I managed to spend?"

**1530 LOCAL - 0930 EASTERN**

While trying to describe the gifts that she'd purchased, Mac realized how hard things were going to be for both of them to adjust to his blindness.

She hated herself for thinking that it would be so much easier if he could see when she should just be thankful that he was alive.

They'd been through so much to get to this point. Why couldn't life take it easy on them for once?

After she'd finished telling Harm about what she'd bought, he closed his eyes as she sat in her chair watching him, thinking that she was a rotten human being since she was sure that there were many a war widow or widower who'd give just about anything to have their loved one back, even if the only way to have them back was blind.

She was a horrible person. That was the only thing that she could think of that could explain why she felt like she did, she thought as she drifted to sleep.

Harm had closed his eyes after Mac had finished describing each of her purchases, but he hadn't been asleep. He'd been too caught up in thought to sleep.

How could he force Mac, his beautiful wife who deserved to have a full life, to a life of having to describe every birthday and Christmas present the children got for the rest of their lives? It wasn't fair to Mac, but the option of letting her go to have that full life with someone else was too much for him to think about for long.

Two thoughts of her life without him kept coming to mind. One was of the children running up to another man and calling him daddy and the other was of a man with his hands roaming all over her naked body.

That was as far as he could let his mind go with those thoughts.

She was his wife.

They'd exchanged vows to love each other, stay with each other in sickness and in health, for better or worse.

He'd survived the attack. He'd gone toe-to-toe with the enemy. He wasn't a man who threw in the towel, and he needed to get his head out of his six and start thinking about how he was going to support his family, whether that involved starting a new career or just learning to adjust to life as a blind man.

'Do they have law books in Braille?' he wondered before the sound of a voice broke through his thoughts, causing him to open his eyes, still an automatic response for him, though it made no difference in what he could see.

"Captain Rabb, I'm sorry that it's taken so long for me to get back to you, but I wanted to be sure that I'd done a thorough review of your case and then I was paged for an emergency. Again, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I'm here now and ready to give you my assessment." Dr. Robbins paused for a moment to chastise himself for not asking the wife to leave the room when he'd first entered. It was no excuse, but he'd lost the emergency patient and he was still a little bit shaken. "If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Rabb, I'll let you know when we've finished talking."

"I know about patient privacy and all that, Dr. Robbins, but it'll save me from having to try to remember everything you say if you'll just let her stay," Harm stated.

"If it's okay with you, Captain Rabb, it's fine if she stays," Dr. Robbins replied.

"Then she stays," Harm said firmly.

"Thank you," Mac said softly, and neither the doctor nor Harm knew to whom she was directing her thanks, so it went unacknowledged by either.

Dr. Robbins looked from Harm to Mac and back to Harm, but since Harm couldn't see, the silence in the room was unbearable, so he made a request.

"Dr, Robbins, please skip the medical terminology of the whys or why nots and just give us the news in simple terms without sugarcoating it. Am I going to regain my sight?"

"Though there is a possibility that there's damage to the optic nerve that's hidden by the remaining swelling, I wasn't able to see any on your latest MRI. Since there has been a significant reduction in the swelling since the surgery, I feel pretty confident in telling you that, in my medical opinion, as the swelling continues to decrease, your sight will return."

Dr. Robbins could swear that he heard Captain and Mrs. Rabb sigh in unison.

"Now, to be clear, it isn't going to happen overnight, but I suspect that, in the next few days, we'll have some sign that your vision is returning," Dr. Robbins stated.

"What kind of sign?" Harm asked.

"It varies from patient to patient, but what I don't want you to expect is for you to wake up and be able to see clearly. It has happened, but it's rare and it's much more likely that you'll open your eyes and see spots or have blurry vision at first. Then it should get clearer each day until you can see as well as you did before you received your concussion."

Harm and Mac were both smiling excitedly as the doctor went on to explain that a 'few days' was a guideline and that he didn't want Harm to be discouraged if it took a little longer. Harm just needed to be patient because he really believed that Harm's sight would return, even if it took a week or two instead of a few days.

When Dr. Robbins left the room, he took Harm and Mac's greatest fear with him.

Harm certainly didn't like not being able to see his wife's beautiful face, but knowing that he would _see_ her again was enough for him today.

After the doctor left, Mac moved to Harm's bedside and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you, too," Harm said softly in response to her kiss.

"I can't wait to get you home where we have a bed big enough for the two of us," Mac said, a relieved smile on her face.

"Don't you mean three? What about junior?" Harm asked.

"Yes, room for three. What do you mean by junior? Are you trying to tell me that this baby is a boy? Because if you are, I'm going to buy some frilly little dresses the next time I go shopping."

"You aren't putting any of my boys in dresses," Harm declared as the natural banter that they'd shared for years started to emerge from the tension that had been filling the room until now.

"In case you don't remember, you were sure that Matthew was a girl. So, if you think that this one's a boy, I'm going to start buying girl's clothing because your record isn't so hot, Sailor."

They both laughed.

"Since we already have both boys and girls in our family, at my next ultrasound, do you want them to tell us the sex of this baby?" Mac asked when their laughter had subsided.

"I don't know. I kind of like the element of surprise, but if we need clothes for a baby girl, it would be nice to know so that we can be prepared. What do you think? Do you want to know?" Harm asked.

"I don't know either, for the same reasons that you just stated," Mac replied.

With the news that the restoration of his sight was on the horizon, they sat and talked casually until Harm became tired and needed to rest.

With Harm napping, Mac made the daily call home and informed Frank, Trish and Mattie that the worst appeared to be over and that she'd be coming home when they moved Harm out of ICU, which would probably be over the weekend, meaning that she'd be home sometime on Monday.

When she spoke to the children, she told them that Daddy was sleeping because he needed lots of rest to feel better, but that the doctor had said that Daddy was doing much better and that she hoped that he'd be able to talk to them sometime over the weekend. She also told them that she should be coming home soon.

The children were happy to hear the news about Harm, but Mac knew that they really needed to hear his voice to believe that their dad was truly okay.

Harm was still sleeping when she returned to his room after making the call, so Mac sat down in the chair by his bed, and sleep soon claimed her as well.

Both dreamed that, when they awoke, Harm's vision would've returned.


	88. Chapter 88

**EPILOGUE**

**SATURDAY, JUNE 21, 2008**

**HARM'S ROOM **

**LANDSTUHL REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**1530 LOCAL - 0930 EASTERN**

Yesterday, they'd started sending a therapist to see Harm twice a day to begin to stretch his shoulder muscles by lifting his arm and doing some slight rotations. It was a painful but necessary first phase in the rehabilitation of his shoulder.

However, dreading his therapy wasn't the reason for Harm's anxiety when he awoke this morning. No, today had been a deadline of sorts that he'd given himself. Though he'd been out of the coma for a couple of days, he'd refrained from speaking to his children. He knew that they'd have no idea that he couldn't see, but there was something about his blindness that made him apprehensive about speaking with them. However, today was the day that he'd told Mac that he'd talk to them whether he had his sight back or not, and the thought was weighing heavily on his mind.

What was it about not being able to see that made him think that he couldn't speak to his children?

That question had been racing through his mind all night to the point where it had entered his dreams and awakened him several times.

Between the restless sleep, his morning physical therapy session and the flurry of activity around him, which had been caused by the doctor ordering Harm to be moved from ICU to a regular room after examining him during his morning rounds, he was exhausted by the time he got settled into his room and he couldn't fight his need for a nap.

Harm had been asleep for a little more than two hours when his mind had started to stir.

He opened his eyes and had to quickly close them.

Something had made them hurt.

'The light hurt my eyes,' Harm thought as he reopened his eyelids and, almost as quickly, slammed them shut. Again, his eyes couldn't handle the light and had closed involuntarily.

When Mac had spoken to him earlier, her voice had come from his right, no, his left in this room...he couldn't remember, so he didn't move his head. He just spoke with his face towards the ceiling.

"Mac?" he almost whispered.

"Yes, what is it?" Mac replied sleepily. He felt badly that he'd awakened her.

"Is there a window in this room?" Harm asked.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Are the blinds open?"

"No," she responded as if she might know what was happening, but not wanting to jump to conclusions, she decided to let the conversation play out.

"Can you turn off the light, please?"

Mac moved quickly to turn off the light above his head.

"I've turned off the light directly above you. Should I see if I can find the light switch for the room light?"

Conveniently, the switch to the light above Harm's head was in the railing of his bed, so she was at his bedside when he made his next attempt to open his eyes.

Mac reached for Harm's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Harm blinked a few times before his eyelids remained open and he spoke.

"No, I don't think that'll be necessary. The light you turned off was the one shining in my eyes and making them hurt."

"Harm..." Mac decided that she couldn't just ask, but Harm understood her question.

"Yes, Mac, I could tell that the light was on," Harm stated.

"Can you see anything else?" she asked with nervous excitement.

"Nothing clearly, but I can see blurry patches of color. Are you wearing a red top?"

"Yes," Mac said with tears rolling down her face before she started to sprinkle feather-light kisses over his forehead, eyes and cheeks, and then bringing her lips to his in what would turn out to be the first 'real' kiss that they'd shared since she'd arrived.

When their lips parted, Mac said, "I should go tell a nurse or something."

However, Harm tugged on her arm to bring her back to him.

"After one more," he said before their lips came together in one more loving kiss.

**THE PHONE CALL**

Mac dialed the number and waited for Frank to pick up.

"Hello, Mac. How are you doing today?" Frank asked when he answered his phone.

"Hi, Frank. I'm fine...better than fine, actually. I just booked my return flight. I'll be home on Monday evening," Mac said, trying to contain her enthusiasm, not about leaving Germany, but about the fact that Harm was feeling well enough that she could leave without feeling like she might never see him again.

"How's Harm doing today?" Frank inquired, prepared for what was quickly becoming Mac's pat answer of "he's doing fine."

"They moved him from ICU to a regular room today...Well, why don't I just let him tell you how he's feeling?"

"Hi, Frank," Harm said after he'd taken the phone from Mac and had it to his ear.

"Harm, son, how are you feeling?"

"Much better, Dad. Thanks for watching the kids so that Mac could be here with me."

"You don't have to thank us. We enjoy spending time with our grandchildren. We do wish that it was under better circumstances, though."

"Me, too," Harm replied with a slight chuckle.

"Are you really doing okay?" Frank inquired of Harm's condition.

"There have been some rough patches, but I'm on the mend and, other than missing my children, I'm really doing much, much better."

"I don't want you to wear yourself out, but it would mean a lot to the children if you could at least say hello to them. Do you think that you're feeling up doing that?" Frank asked.

"I took a nap before we called, so I'm ready, willing and able to talk to everyone."

"Well, your mom is here with me, so let me put her on while I go get the children and tell them that you're on the phone."

"Okay," Harm responded.

"Harm?" His mother's voice was shaky.

"Yes, Mom, it's really me," Harm said in a voice that was strictly used with his mother - one of exasperated son.

Mother and son talked for only a few minutes before Harm could hear Sami in the background.

"I want to talk to Daddy!" Sami must have been yelling as she headed towards her grandmother for Harm to be able to hear her so clearly through the phone.

"Harm, Sami wants to talk to you now."

A moment later, Sami's cheery voice was coming through the receiver to Harm's ear.

"Daddy, are you all better now?" Sami asked.

"Not yet, Ladybug, but Daddy is feeling a lot better," Harm answered.

"When are you coming home?" Sami asked.

"Soon I hope, but the doctor hasn't told me exactly when yet." Harm knew that explaining to Sami that sometime in the coming week he should be transferred to Bethesda wasn't going to cut it with her. He knew that Sami was interested only in when he was going to be at home with her again.

"Tell Mommy to tell the doctor to make you better faster. I miss you and want you home," Sami said, sounding as if she were giving an order.

"Okay, I'll tell Momma that she needs to tell the doctor to make me better faster so that I can come home," Harm repeated so that Mac could hear Sami's request.

"Grandpa says that it's Abigail's turn now," Sami said before shoving the phone at Abigail.

"Hello, Harm," Abigail said.

Harm didn't expect her to call him Daddy, but he'd hoped for it anyway.

"Hi, Princess."

"Are you feeling better?" Abigail asked.

"Yes. I'm feeling much better. The doctors and Momma have been taking very good care of me."

"Tell the doctors that we'll take good care of you if they'll let you come home."

The idea that she wanted him home, even though she wasn't calling him Daddy, made him feel better.

"I'll tell them that and see if they'll let me come home, because I miss you, Abigail."

"I miss you...and Momma, too," Abigail stated, and Harm got a little choked up at the thought that his little girl was feeling a little lost without her mother or father at home, even though he knew that his parents were taking excellent care of them.

"Ty wants to talk to you now," Abigail said softly.

"Hi, Dad," Ty's voice came through strong and clear, not as emotional as his younger sisters.

"Hi, Buddy. How are you doing?" Harm asked.

"I'm doing okay now that Grandpa said that you're going to be okay. What part of you got hurt?" Ty asked.

"I hit my head really hard and I hurt my shoulder." Harm wasn't going to tell his children that he'd been shot unless they asked him a direct question about how his shoulder had been injured.

"Does your head and shoulder still hurt?" Ty asked.

"My head doesn't hurt as much today, but my shoulder still hurts a lot," Harm answered.

"The doctor says that you're going to get all better though, right?"

"Yes, they say that I'll have to do some exercises to make my shoulder better, but if I do them for a few weeks, I'll be as good as new."

"Grandpa says that it's Mattie's turn, so I've got to go, but I want to tell you that I love and miss you."

"I love and miss you, too," Harm was able to reply before Mattie came on the line.

"Harm?" Mattie's voice was shaky like his mother's had been.

"I'm going to be okay. It's going to be harder than that to get rid of me," Harm said in a reassuring yet slightly joking manner, trying to ease Mattie's fears.

He heard her let out a sigh before she spoke again.

"You scared me, Harm."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I really am going to be okay," Harm replied, reassuring her once more.

"Grandpa said that we shouldn't keep you on the phone too long because you need to get your rest."

"Look, Mac's coming home on Monday, and I should be transferred to a hospital closer to home soon after that, so I'd like for you to come to see me after I get settled in there...if you'd like to that is."

"Yes, I would...that would be great, actually," she said, sounding happier now.

"I'm looking forward to your visit already."

"I should let you go so that you can get some rest. I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad that you're okay."

"I am getting a little tired, but, before we hang up, I want you to know that I love you. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Mattie said with a sigh.

Harm handed the phone back to Mac and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that talking on the phone had made him so tired.

Perhaps it hadn't. Maybe it had just relaxed him to the point where his body was finally able to truly rest.

Harm woke from that nap a few hours later, feeling more rested than after any nap before, but, when he opened his eyes, his vision was still blurry.

Every time Harm woke the rest of that weekend, his hope had been to be able to really _see_ Mac before she left. However, when it came time to say goodbye to her early on Monday morning, he still couldn't see her clearly.

With Mac on her way home, Harm set himself new goals to be accomplished by the time he saw her again.

The first was to regain his normal vision and the second was to put the whole diplomatic tour behind him ... but would he be able to accomplish either of those goals when the outcomes would be determined by things over which he had little or no control?


	89. Chapter 89

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - HOMECOMING **

**PART ONE - Release Date**

**TUESDAY, JULY 1, 2008**

**BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL **

**1000**

Mac was running a bit late this morning. She'd been having trouble getting out of the house the last couple of days.

She was feeling fine, but Abigail had been sleeping in bed with her since she'd returned from Germany, and last night, their little girl had seemed to have an extra hard time sleeping. Her tossing and turning had kept Mac awake most of the night. So, this morning, Mac was feeling a bit lethargic, and it had taken her longer to do everything, even get herself dressed.

Though Harm had been calling regularly since the first time that he'd spoken to the children from Germany, since returning to the same time zone, he'd been calling a second time just to say good night to them.

All the children had spoken to him on the phone, but Abigail hadn't said much to him. She'd mostly listened and, when she did answer a question or say something to him, she'd either refrained from calling him anything or she'd called him Harm.

However, the bad dreams that Mac had been told that she'd had while she was in Germany seemed to indicate that Abigail was more connected to him as her dad than as simply a man named Harm.

In contrast to Abigail, who still seemed to be fearful that Harm wasn't okay or wasn't going to come home, Harm's daily phone calls had helped Sami and Tyler deal with his absence, though Mac knew that seeing Harm would make them feel even better.

Mac wondered if Matthew was aware of anything.

After some thought on the matter, she decided that, since Harm was a very attentive father, she was sure that, on some level, Matthew was aware that Harm hadn't been there to hold or play with him, but she doubted that Matthew had really missed him since his grandparents and siblings doted on him and met his every need.

Once Harm had settled in at Bethesda, Mac had hoped to be able to take the children by to see him, but hospital policy allowed only children who were ten or older on the ward.

At nine, Mac thought that she could get away with taking Tyler to see Harm, but that wouldn't be fair to the other children, so the phone calls were the only means that the children had of staying connected to him.

When Harm had called from Germany to tell her that he was being transferred to Bethesda, he'd also told her that the doctors believed that he wouldn't be in the hospital there for more than a week. If it looked like he was going to be at Bethesda longer than that, Mac wondered if some rank pulling or name dropping would allow her to get the hospital to consent to letting his children visit him.

If it came to that, though, she'd also have to convince her husband that visiting him would be beneficial since, up to that point, he'd been saying that he didn't want them to see him with IV lines and monitors hooked up to him. Of course, he didn't have most of those now, so maybe, for the sake of his children, she could talk him into letting the children visit.

Mac was sure that it would also do wonders for Harm's morale, as well.

Mac entered Harm's room.

"Hey, you look tired today, Mrs. Rabb. Everything okay at home?"

"Nothing new. Our little princess is worried about her daddy and doesn't want to sleep alone. It was so bad last night that her tossing and turning kept me awake. How did you sleep?" Mac asked as she reached the bed and placed a quick kiss hello on his lips.

"I slept okay. Do you think that I'm going to have to start all over with Abigail?"

Mac reached for Harm's hand. "I don't think so. I believe that she's having so much trouble because you've already won her over. Once you're home, I think she'll be fine. It may not happen the second she sees you. In fact, it may take her a little while to get used to having you there again, but I think that, once you're home and she realizes that you aren't going to leave her, she'll be okay."

"I hope so," Harm said with a sigh.

A nurse walked into the room pushing a wheelchair.

"Road trip, Captain Rabb. The doctor has ordered an eye test for you this morning," the nurse chirped happily.

**HARM'S ROOM**

**1330**

After Harm returned from his eye test, the nurse took a blood sample and then lunch came. For a guy in the hospital, he seemed to be pretty busy.

He'd drifted off to sleep for half an hour or so after lunch and, when he woke up, Mac was asleep in the chair by his bed, so he turned on the TV to keep himself entertained while she got in a nap.

Harm found himself watching Mac sleep more than the TV.

She'd started to stir, and he didn't want to be caught watching her, so he started to flip through the channels, trying to find something on TV that could hold his attention until Mac woke up and he could talk to her.

Harm stopped on the news channel...big mistake!

It didn't take more than a few seconds before a story about him or, more precisely, 'the incident in the desert' as it had been dubbed, aired, and just like that, his mood turned somber.

Harm stared at the TV screen, and his mind wandered back to the day that he'd found out that what he'd been through had been given a name in the press and that he was being investigated. It had been the day after his arrival here at Bethesda.

********FLASHBACK********

**FRIDAY, JUNE 27, 2008**

**HARM'S ROOM**

**BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER **

**MARYLAND**

Harm was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for Mac.

His vision had been improving steadily since Saturday, nearly a week ago now. He could clearly see whatever was within a few feet of him, but objects or people who were at a distance were still blurry and had shadows or hazy borders around them.

His mood had been melancholy for the last several days, not because his vision hadn't returned completely since he'd been told that it was no longer a matter of if but when his sight would be completely restored and that, as the swelling continued to go down over the next next week to ten days, his vision should clear up.

No, his mood was because the first person whom he'd seen clearly had been a nurse working the graveyard shift in Germany.

It was being able to see a face clearly for the first time since his injury that made him yearn to be able to look into Mac's eyes...and today was the day when he'd see her again.

Harm was lost in a daydream of greeting Mac with a loving kiss when a voice pulled him from his thoughts of his wife.

"...Rabb...Captain Rabb..."

Harm looked towards the door, and the man asked, "How are you feeling this morning?"

Harm didn't recognize his voice, and he was still too far away to see clearly, but the man was on crutches. He could tell that much.

'Why would another patient know him by name?' he wondered momentarily.

"I'm doing okay. How about you?" Harm asked as the man came closer.

"I'm great. You won't believe the mileage that I'm getting out of this with the ladies," he said with a chuckle as he came close enough to the bed for Harm to be able to see his face.

Harm then recognized the man.

He was the reporter who'd been along on the diplomatic tour.

The reporter's face turned serious.

"I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Chuck Hanson, a reporter for the Washington Post."

I remember you," Harm replied. He did remember his face, but not his name. "What brings you by to see me, Mr. Hanson?"

I tried to see you at Landstuhl before they shipped me stateside, but I didn't have any luck. I was hoping that, if I got here early enough this morning, you'd give me an exclusive," Chuck said.

"You were there. I can't tell you anything that you don't already know," Harm replied.

"I don't want your commentary on the convoy attack. My sources tell me that the Secretary of the Navy gave into pressure and called for an investigation into your command decisions in the days that followed the attack."

"An investigation," Harm muttered under his breath, but not softly enough to keep Chuck from hearing and understanding his words.

"Yes, an investigation...and the Secretary is drawing criticism for his choice of investigating agencies since he's requested a JAGman investigation. Since your current duty has you reporting directly to the Secretary of the Navy and you're a member of the JAG Corps - some say that it's an insincere attempt to appease the powers that be at the State Department who are already screaming coverup."

Having been heard a moment earlier, Harm refrained from even moving his lips when Chuck Hanson mentioned the State Department. He knew that it wasn't the State Department as a whole that was pushing for an investigation or screaming coverup. It was one man, Patrick Davenport.

"What do you say to the allegations that you didn't take into consideration the danger that you were putting the civilians in when you made your decisions?"

"I have no comment," Harm said flatly. He was angry and didn't want to take it out on the messenger.

"If charges are filed, are you concerned that it'll end your career? It could, right?"

Harm remained silent.

"At the very least your reputation will be shot, and you have nothing to say in your defense?"

Harm knew that the reporter was trying to goad him into saying something in anger, or at least without thought in order to have a good headline, and he wasn't going to fall for that old trick.

"I have no comment on the matter," Harm said with a tight jaw and a firm voice.

The expression on Harm's face and his cold tone told Chuck Hanson that he might get a quote another day, but that he wasn't going to get one from Captain Rabb today.

"How's the shoulder?" Chuck asked, casually changing the subject when he saw the bandage.

"Better," Harm replied, still clenching his jaw.

Chuck realized that he wasn't going to soften him up with small talk and get him to make a statement, so he decided that retreating might be the best plan.

"Captain Rabb, you're being tried in the press based on what I believe to be one man's accusations, so I think that you're making a big mistake by not making a statement in your defense. If you change your mind and want to go on the record about what happened in what we in the press are calling the incident in the desert ...give me a call," Chuck said to Harm before handing him a business card.

Harm took the card without saying a word.

"I'm going to head out. I'm sure that you still need your rest. I hope to hear from you soon," Chuck said before turning to leave the room, but he stopped and turned back to face Harm.

"For what it's worth...I think you did a hell of a job, and I'd like to thank you for saving my skin."

"Thanks," Harm said to Chuck's back as he left the room.

Harm was still muttering under his breath when Mac entered the room moments later.

"Hey," Mac said softly as she entered his room.

"Hey, Mac," Harm replied, but the loving tone with which he usually greeted her wasn't there. His tone was tense.

Mac had seen a man on crutches exiting Harm's room as she was coming down the hall. She wondered if that man was the cause of Harm's mood.

"It looked like you had a visitor who was just leaving as I arrived. Who was he?"

"Chuck Hanson...reporter with the Washington Post," Harm stated, tension still evident in his face.

"The same guy who was in the convoy with you? What did he want?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, same guy, and he wanted me to give him an exclusive interview on what I thought about being investigated for ...hell, I don't know what Davenport is claiming, and how he got them to officially begin a JAGman investigation into the "incident in the desert," to quote Hanson, is beyond me!" Harm was almost frothing at the mouth as he spoke. He was definitely angry.

"I'll call Bud and get him to give us at least the scuttlebutt on what allegations have been made against you. In the meantime, I brought you the items that you requested so that you'd have some 'real clothes' to wear when Mattie visits you tomorrow," Mac said as she lifted a bag and placed it on the bed next to him.

Harm reached out and placed his hand over hers. "I'm sorry, Mac." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

He wanted to taste her lips, but he was afraid that, until after he'd apologized for his abrupt behavior, she'd be resistant to a more intimate kiss.

"I just wasn't prepared for a homecoming that might involve disciplinary action. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It may be hard for you to believe from the way I acted when you arrived, but I've missed you."

He leaned forward, and she leaned into him, their lips meeting, but she pulled back when he started to wrap his arm around her and pull her in closer to him, hoping to "make up" for his original lackluster interest in seeing her.

"Harm, we're in a hospital, and you aren't supposed to be overdoing it," Mac said, pulling completely away from him. "Where do you want me to put your things?" she asked, turning her attention to the bag that she'd brought and beginning to unpack some sweat pants and t-shirts.

********END FLASHBACK********

Harm thought about it for a moment. He really hadn't been in a good mood since he'd arrived at Bethesda.

Aside from being informed about the fact that Davenport had made allegations against him and he'd subsequently been questioned by JAG officers, something seemed to be keeping him from enjoying his homecoming.

Phone calls were no longer enough to keep up his spirits. He needed to see his children.

Thank God he could literally do that, _see_ them.

He wanted to hug them and tell them how much he'd missed them and that he loved them. Yes, that's the kind of homecoming that he needed to get him out of this 'blue funk'.

He needed to focus on his_real_homecoming, the homecoming that meant that he was back at home with his family.

**MEANWHILE**

Harm continued to watch the news while waiting for Mac to awaken. However, Mac was just resting with her eyes closed, not really paying attention to what was being said on the TV until she heard the reporter say Harm's name. Then she immediately opened her eyes.

The scowl on his face as he stared at the TV told her that his mood had changed.

Even though she didn't believe that anyone was ever really happy to be in a hospital, when she'd arrived today, he'd seemed to be okay, but judging from the scowl on his face now, he was angry.

She really couldn't blame him for being upset by the news since she'd been here when the JAG officers had come to question him yesterday.

*********FLASHBACK********

**MONDAY, JUNE 30, 2008**

**HARM'S ROOM**

**BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER **

**MARYLAND **

**LUNCHTIME**

Mac was lounging on Harm's bed reading a magazine while Harm was enjoying being able to sit upright in a chair while eating his lunch when two men in uniform entered the room.

Harm and Mac looked at the invading strangers and immediately knew who they were from their insignia. They were with JAG, and Harm and Mac could guess why they were there.

"Captain Rabb, I'm Lt. Commander Chase and this is Lieutenant Hayworth. We're with the JAG Corps and we've come to ask you a few questions, Sir."

Mac sat up and addressed the two men.

"Well, as you can see, gentlemen, Captain Rabb is eating lunch at the moment, so you'll have to come back later."

"Mac, it's okay. I'd just as soon get this over with," Harm said calmly.

"In that case, let me get the notes that I made, and he'll speak with you in a moment," Mac said, getting up off the bed to retrieve the notes that she'd written for him in Germany.

Mac, armed with a folder containing her notes, told the two officers that they could begin.

"Thank you, Ma'am, but, if I may, I suggest that it might be better if you'd step outside."

"Your suggestion, Commander, is noted, but as retired JAG officer, I'll be his legal representative during questioning, so I'll be staying," Mac stated firmly.

"You were a JAG, Ma'am?" the lieutenant asked in surprise.

"Yes, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Marine Corps, retired."

"I see, Ma'am, but it seems premature for Captain Rabb to have legal representation. We just have a few questions for him about the incident in the desert, Ma'am, unless you believe that there's something to the allegations. In which case, we're prepared to take his statement and take it back to the convening authority."

"He has no statement for you. He's done nothing wrong. He'll answer your questions to the best of his ability. However, you need to be aware that he suffered a head injury and that it may cause him to have to refer to the notes that I wrote, which are based on his recounting of the incident to me shortly after he regained consciousness. Is that understood, Gentlemen?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the JAG officers answered in unison.

"Very well then, begin when you're ready, gentlemen," Harm stated with a certain amount of pride in his voice for his wife's belief in him and his confidence in her legal skills.

"Let's begin with the hours immediately after the attack. What did you do?" Commander Chase asked.

Harm explained not being conscious for an unknown period of time. Then he recounted what he'd done once he'd come to and discovered that Corporal Lansing was in good enough condition to be his eyes and give him the information that he needed to make decisions about what their next move should be.

"Did you refuse to give water to anyone, Captain Rabb?"

"No, but I did order that the water that we had be rationed."

"On the first day, did you order the Marines who'd survived to bury the three who'd perished in the attack?"

"No, I ordered that the three dead be placed under an overturned Jeep to keep their bodies from decaying at an accelerated rate from the heat of the direct sun and to obscure the bodies from the civilians because I didn't want them to be reminded of the fact that death could be the outcome for all of us," Harm replied.

"Why didn't you order the surviving Marines to bury those who'd been killed?"

"Two reasons: one, it would've taken more energy to bury them, and the Marines digging the graves would've required more water, thus forcing even more rigid restrictions on water rations. I also believed that, if we all perished before being found, with all of us dead, the bodies of those Marines' might be lost and never returned to their families. Their families deserved to have their bodies to bury."

"Did you ever think of sending someone to a base camp for help?"

"I considered it, but it wasn't a practical option. I couldn't send an untrained civilian, who was unfamiliar with the territory, and with more civilians in my charge than military, I needed what trained personnel I had to protect the civilians in the event that the enemy found us before the coalition forces arrived," Harm answered.

"Did you ever consider moving towards a base camp as a unit?"

"I did, but the fact that several of us were wounded made it impractical. I also knew that our troops were aware of our location at the time of the attack, so it seemed like the best option was to stay where we were and wait for assistance."

The questioning went on for two hours and eleven minutes.

Mac thought that the two officers sounded more like they were interrogating Harm than simply asking probing questions about the 'incident in the desert'.

It was as if they were looking for something with which to charge him, not searching for the truth, and that had done as much to spoil Harm's mood as it had to spoil hers.

Someone, Davenport presumably, was after her husband.

*********END FLASHBACK********

No, she couldn't blame Harm for being angry or upset by the investigation, but that didn't make it any easier for her to cope with him when he was in a bad mood.

She knew that it was cowardly, but instead of saying anything to him, she closed her eyes and pretended to be still asleep. She hoped that, after a few minutes, he'd work through his anger and be back to a more even emotional plane where they could talk without him being snippy with her.

Mac waited exactly ten minutes before she opened her eyes again. When she did, the TV was off and Harm was lying back on his bed.

She was unsure if Harm was asleep, so she decided to stand to see if his eyes were closed before she said anything to him.

Mac stood, but before she could take a step, Harm spoke to her, "I'm not asleep and I'm calmer than I was ten minutes ago."

"You knew that I was awake?" Mac inquired.

"Yes, but I figured that I owed you a break. I haven't been the easiest guy to get along with since I got here."

"You've been through a lot. I can understand why you're upset."

"I shouldn't be taking out my frustrations on you, though."

"Maybe not, but I'm close and I'm Marine tough, so I can handle it, Sailor." Mac said the word sailor in a purr, which elicited a smile from her husband.

"I love you," Harm said to her with a look in his eyes that spoke to her heart.

"And I love you," Mac replied.

Mac was about to kiss him when Harm's doctor came strolling into the room.

The doctor realized that he'd obviously interrupted a 'moment' between the couple, and he smiled as he moved closer to Harm's bed.

"You want the good news or the bad news first, Captain Rabb?" his doctor asked without dropping the corners of his mouth, letting Harm and Mac know that the bad news couldn't be that bad.

"Either one," Harm replied dryly, not in the mood to play along.

"Well, the good news is that, since you haven't complained of a headache in several days and the results of your MRI yesterday shows no swelling, I don't believe that you'll have any more headaches, at least ones caused by your injury. In addition, the results of your vision test this morning shows that you're very close to having the same visual acuity that you had at your previous regular eye exam. The slight difference could be a result of a natural decline since your last exam and have nothing to do with your injury, or you may still acquire some minor improvement in your vision...either way, you aren't in need of glasses. The eye test that we'll be giving you in a month as part of your readiness for duty physical will tell us for certain if the vision change is permanent."

"Okay, that's the good news. So what's the bad news?" Harm asks.

"The bad news is, that concussion of yours was severe enough to put you on thirty days of medical leave, which, if you agree to the terms and limitations, can be served at home -"

"At home...starting when?" Mac asked, interrupting the doctor.

"If, after you hear the limitations and restrictions, you think that he'll be able to follow his discharge instructions, I think that I could have him processed out of here in within an hour...unless you aren't ready to take him home today," the doctor added, teasing the captain's very attentive wife.

"No, today would be fantastic!" Mac replied with a big grin before kissing Harm's cheek.

The doctor was thrilled to see things go right for a couple who were so obviously in love. In times of war, it seemed that he often saw couples whose relationships couldn't hold up to the strains of severe injuries, and some young couples' relationships didn't survive even the minor ones.

"Let's see if you still think that when I tell you his restrictions," the doctor stated half-jokingly.

"What are the conditions of my parole, Doctor?" Harm inquired, feeling more jovial - now that he was going home.

"The most inconvenient item for you and your family will be the thirty day 'no driving' restriction because of your concussion, especially since, for the next two weeks, you'll need to come here every day for physical therapy. Then you'll be reassessed, and the number of visits per week will probably decline. The only other restriction you have has to do with that shoulder. You aren't to lift anything with that arm that weighs more than ten pounds."

"Ten pounds?" Harm said questioningly.

"Yes, does that present a problem for you?" the doctor inquired.

"Kind of, Doctor...I have four young children, and they're used to me picking them up. Even the baby weighs more than ten pounds," Harm said, sounding disappointed.

He should've known that he couldn't just walk back into his life as if nothing had happened, but he still wanted things to be back to normal, nonetheless.

"I'll call and talk to them so they know not to jump on you from all sides," Mac said, offering Harm a comforting pat on his arm.

"Very well then, that takes care of that. Now, about therapy ... a lot of guys in your position...guys with kids, I mean, tend to try to do more than their therapist asks, thinking that it will help them recuperate sooner, but let me tell you that it doesn't work that way. You need to follow your therapist's instructions and let it take as long as it takes. The average is about eight weeks, but I've seen some need twelve or fourteen, so don't rush it and, most importantly, don't get discouraged if you take longer than some because, believe me, if you overdo or give up, you'll never regain full range of motion in that shoulder. Among the complications that it might bring to your life is your fitness for duty. So, are we clear on the weight limit and the physical therapy schedule, Captain Rabb?"

"Yes, Sir, no lifting with that arm of more than ten pounds until further notice and listen to my physical therapist...got it, Sir."

"Any questions, Captain or Mrs. Rabb, about the discharge instructions?" the doctor asked.

"No, Sir," Harm and Mac answered in unison.

"Is there going to be a problem with getting him here for physical therapy?"

"No, Sir," Mac answered.

"Excellent...then if you're ready to get out of here, I'll send the nurse in to have you sign a couple of forms and order you a wheelchair so that you can be on your way. I'll see you on Wednesday, Captain Rabb, to see how things are going. The nurse will set up the appointment for you."

"Yes, Sir," Harm said.

"Thank you, Doctor," Mac said as she shook the doctor's hand.

Mac looked at Harm as the doctor left the room.

For someone who was going home, he didn't seem very happy.

"Aren't you happy to be going home?" Mac had asked the question before she'd had time to censor herself.

"Of course, I'm happy about sleeping in my own bed, eating food that has flavor and seeing my children."

"But...?" Mac said like a question.

"But I have to say that I'm a little nervous about how the children are going to react to seeing me, especially when they find out that I can't do some of the things that they're used to me doing with them. I'm especially anxious about what the little 'incident in the desert' has done to my relationship with Abigail."

Mac smiled for two reasons. One, because he seemed to be more relaxed than even fifteen minutes ago and, two, because he'd confessed one of his secrets to her: his fear about Abigail.

Mac took his hand and looked him in the eye.

"Let's get you home so we can find out if your concerns are founded. If there _is_ a problem, look at it this way. You've got thirty days at home to fix it, and I have complete faith that you'll be able to break through her defenses and be back on good terms with her. Maybe this will even pave the way for the two of you to be closer than ever. At any rate, I know that you'll be able to win her over again."

Mac pressed hers lips to his for a short, sweet kiss, but it turned out to be more of a peck because the nurse entered the room with forms to sign for his release.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**BEDTIME**

As they tucked in the children together this evening, they thought about each child's reaction to Harm's coming through the door this afternoon, which had been a testament to their different personalities.

Matthew had fallen asleep in Harm's lap and had stirred a little when Mac had lifted him in order to move him to his crib. However, Harm singing to him had quickly had him back to sleep.

Sami had lit up and embraced Harm the moment that he'd walked through the door. She'd hugged him tightly for a few moments and then started babbling endlessly about wanting to take a tumbling class. It seemed that, in just those few moments of him being home, she'd been able to erase the past few weeks from her thoughts.

Abigail had clung to Mac, her grandmother or Mattie. Harm thought that the way that she was acting was even more distant than when she'd first come to live with them. However, there was hope for them, he'd thought, when he'd caught Abigail staring at him at the dinner table.

Ty, on the other hand, had greeted him warmly, but had seemed to be holding back. It wasn't until it was time to tuck him in that Harm had found out why.

"I didn't want to ask a lot of questions in front of the girls because I didn't want them to be scared, but I want to ask you what happened...I mean if you can tell me. I don't want you to break any rules or anything," Ty said.

Harm had to admit that his first instinct was to tell him that he couldn't talk about it. However, he wanted an honest, open relationship with his children, and answering his questions without getting too graphic was a step in keeping the lines of communication open between them.

Harm's theory was, if he talked with his children about things that were hard for him to talk about when his children asked questions, his children would be more likely to talk to him about things that might not be easy for them to share.

"I didn't think that Ty was ever going to stop asking questions." Mac's statement pulled Harm from his thoughts as she continued to speak. "I'll bet that you're exhausted from all the commotion around here compared to the hospital. Why don't you take the bathroom first and get yourself into bed?"

"I am a little tired, but I'll bet that I can muster enough energy for this," Harm said as he wrapped his uninjured arm around his wife.

Harm's soft lips came to hers, and she leaned against his body.

This was something that she'd been craving, being in his arms.

His tongue soon made a request to enter her mouth, which she granted willingly.

The kiss became so intense and lasted so long that the need for air forced them to part.

Mac sighed as she rested her forehead against his chest.

"I've missed you," he whispered to her.

"And I missed you," she said, her mind starting to clear.

"Then let's go to bed together," he said seductively.

Mac lifted her head off his chest and tilted her head up to look him in the eye.

"I think that you should get some rest."

"I'll rest...after," Harm replied before leaning in to kiss her again, but she put a hand on his chest, keeping his lips from meeting hers.

"Harm, you just got out of the hospital. I don't think that we should make love on your first night home," Mac replied.

"If you don't feel up to it, I understand," Harm said, looking down at her round belly.

"It isn't that, Harm," Mac replied.

"Then you just don't want me," Harm said after breaking eye contact with her.

"No, that certainly isn't it either," Mac said as she used her fingers to bring his face back to meet her eyes.

She'd been trying to avoid saying anything about Abigail to him because, after the chilly reception that he'd received from her, Mac was aware that he knew that their little girl hadn't overcome her fears when she'd seen him.

"It's Abigail," she confessed.

Harm eyed her curiously.

"I told you that she's been sleeping with me every night since I got home from Germany, and even though she let us tuck her into her own bed, I'm not sure that she's going to stay there for the night. I wouldn't want our reunion to be interrupted, so I think that we should wait a few days to make sure that Abigail stays in her own bed before we indulge in an intimate homecoming celebration."

Harm gave Mac a quick peck on the lips.

"You take the bathroom first then," he said, releasing his hold on Mac and stepping away from her.

Mac quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth before Harm took his turn.

A few minutes later, Harm emerged from the bathroom in a set of lightweight pajamas.

Mac was already in bed and had pulled back the covers for Harm.

"You're wearing the top?" Mac said, a little surprised. It was summertime, and he usually wore only the bottoms when it was warm outside.

"Yeah, I figured that, if Abigail does come in for a visit tonight, seeing the ugly red scar on my shoulder would probably make things worse for her, so I opted to cover it up...besides, despite what you said, I doubt that you could resist me after the weeks that I've been away if I came to bed bare-chested." Harm said the latter with a cocky grin as he slipped into bed.

Mac smiled as Harm pulled the covers up over himself. This was her Harm, the sure of himself sailor with the cocky grin.

Mac waited for Harm to get settled in next to her before rolling over and placing her lips on his.

Harm's arms wrapped around her, and he brought her closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

Mac allowed herself to get lost in the kiss, and her body relaxed into him, her weight coming to rest fully on Harm's chest and shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.

Mac quickly pulled away when she felt Harm wince.

"I'm sorry, Harm. I forgot about your injured shoulder. I'll need to stay on my side of the bed so I don't bump into it in my sleep. Until your shoulder is better, I'll just have to kiss you good night before we get into bed."

"I have a better idea. Let's just switch sides. Then you won't accidentally bump my sore shoulder."

"I like that idea better, too," Mac replied with a grin.

After changing sides, Harm and Mac tried out their new positions by kissing good night again, this time without incident, but Harm's shoulder was throbbing from the bump that it had received earlier, so Mac got up and retrieved a pain pill from the prescription bottle in Harm's bag that he'd brought home from the hospital.

After she was back in bed, she lay next to him, glad that he was home and that, for the first time in weeks, they were in the same bed.


	90. Chapter 90

**PART TWO - Harm's First Full Day Home **

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 2, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**0013**

Even though they'd gone to bed in the safe position of lying on their backs close to each other with their hands clasped between them so as not to risk hurting Harm's shoulder, once asleep, their attraction for each other couldn't be contained, and Harm was soon spooned up behind Mac in the middle of their bed with his injured left arm outside the covers and his hand splayed protectively over their unborn child.

Mac was sleeping soundly in the arms of her husband when she felt a small hand touch her arm.

She opened her eyes and confirmed what she'd already sensed.

Their visitor was Abigail.

Mac touched Harm's forearm.

"Harm, please scoot back a little bit to make room for Abigail."

Harm didn't say anything that could be understood, but, as he mumbled, he moved as instructed.

Mac scooted over until her body was once again snuggled against his, and then she lifted the covers and whispered to Abigail, "Get in."

Abigail snuggled close to her mother and felt safer, but when Harm returned his arm to its position over Mac as they settled into bed together, Abigail relaxed and immediately fell asleep when his hand came to rest on the blanket covering her back.

The three of them slept soundly until a little before 0500 when Harm woke.

He stayed in bed for a few minutes, but decided that there was nothing wrong with his legs, so he was going to go for a run this morning.

He knew that he was probably going to hear from someone, his wife or his mother more than likely, that he was pushing to get back into a routine too soon after leaving the hospital, but the morning exercise wasn't just so that he could feel like he was getting back his life.

He also felt that it was important for his children that he get back into a routine that was familiar to them so that, not only he but his entire family could put this experience behind them and focus on things to come, including the Fourth of July celebration at the Roberts on Friday and Sami's birthday party a week later.

Though he'd walked the hospital grounds as exercise at Bethesda, this was his first run in many weeks, so he ran only from his house to the Roberts' home and back - a total of about a mile - and he took Cocoa along for some exercise before returning to the house to shower, shave and dress, tasks that he managed to accomplish without disturbing his sleeping girls.

**0645 **

Harm quietly entered their bedroom, though he wasn't sure why he was trying to be quiet. He was here to wake them for breakfast, after all.

He stood just inside the door and watched Mac's sleeping form for a couple of minutes, unsure that he wanted to disturb his very own sleeping beauty.

Sleeping on her back and almost five months pregnant, her growing belly was a visible lump under the lightweight summer blanket covering their bed.

Harm didn't know how long he'd been standing there. He knew that it had been several minutes, but it seemed like seconds to him before Mac stirred under his gaze.

He moved quickly to sit on the side of the bed next to her.

Mac's eyelids fluttered before they opened and stayed that way.

"Good morning, Beautiful," he whispered so as not to wake Abigail, who was still fast asleep on Mac's other side. Then he leaned over and gave her a kiss.

His reward for the kiss was a sweet smile.

"I was sent in here to wake you two for breakfast," Harm whispered.

"Oh my...I can't believe I overslept. I'll fix breakfast right away," Mac said, scrambling to get up.

"Take it easy. My mom has it under control. She's just requesting your presence at the table." Mac saw Harm's eyes move from hers to look at a sleeping Abigail.

"Do you think that she's doing any better?" he asked softly.

Mac tried to get out of bed, but it seemed to be taking some effort to get up without waking Abigail until Harm stood and offered his hand to help her up.

Mac took the offered helping hand and, with Harm's assistance, she scooted out of bed.

She didn't release his hand once she was standing, opting to tug on it slightly to get him to follow her into the bathroom so that she could answer his question without fear of Abigail overhearing.

Once the door was shut behind them, Mac answered Harm's question.

"I know that she didn't stay in her own room very long, but before you came home, she wouldn't even lie down in her bed at all. She also didn't toss and turn last night. I think that both of those things are signs that she's doing better."

Harm nodded in understanding of what she'd told him, but Mac could see the sadness in his eyes.

"I wish that I could tell you how long it's going to take before she'll sleep in her bed all night or call you daddy again..." Mac began as she placed her hands on his chest. "...but I do think that she's doing better."

Harm kissed Mac softly.

"I'll go let Mom know that you and Abigail will be there shortly," he said, sounding disheartened.

"Okay," Mac uttered in response.

Mac knew that Abigail would have to find her own way and that Harm would be there when she was ready, but it didn't make her feel any better to know that she couldn't do anything to help them find their way back to each other when she knew how much they needed each other.

**BENJAMIN PIERSON, **

**DEPUTY DIRECTOR'S OFFICE**

**STATE DEPARTMENT**

**1000**

Patrick Davenport had been called to his boss' office, but, unlike most men who'd have had some trepidation about being summoned to meet with his boss, Davenport, Pat to his friends and political associates, walked into the deputy director's office with confidence, almost strutting.

"Mr. Pierson, you wanted to see me, Sir?" Pat said in a strong voice.

"Yes, I did request your presence," Ben Pierson said flatly. "I know that we've discussed your displeasure with the military handling of the situation in the desert -"

"I should clarify. I have nothing against the military in general, Sir. I have a complaint about one man, Captain Harmon Rabb," Davenport said, cutting off the deputy director.

"Pat, I'm sure that the whole experience was nerve racking and terrifying...and when you returned, we spoke, and I supported your pursuit of an investigation, but I called you in here to ask if you intend to pursue this matter."

"Are you getting pressure from someone higher up for me to drop this?" Davenport asked.

"No...at least not yet, but I think that a wise man knows when to walk away from something. I also believe that a wise man is one who is well informed, so I've called you in here this morning to tell you that I'm not without my sources and, from what I've learned from the preliminary reports, this matter could come back to bite you in the ass."

"What have you heard, Sir?"

"Among other things, the man has connections. He's been an adviser for Congresswoman Latham, and Senator Proxmeyer speaks highly of him as well, so you need to be sure that you're right or be prepared to lose ... big time."

"Sir, Captain Rabb withheld water from us. He told me to shut up and pray that we made it out of there alive. At the very least, he didn't behave in a professional manner."

"I guess you'll have to ask yourself if you're willing to flush your career down the toilet for a charge of conduct unbecoming then, Pat. Look, I'm sure that the experience you went through was harrowing, but the fact that the nine of you were found alive gives the captain a lot of credibility as far as his leadership and decision making skills are concerned. Through a source of mine, I was able to get a copy of Captain Rabb's responses to your accusations, and your versions are very different. For instance, he says that he didn't deny anyone water. It was simply that you had a limited supply and it was rationed out. Now, I'm not a soldier and never have been, but that explanation seems logical to me. Then..." Pierson stopped himself and pushed the paper from which he'd been reading towards Davenport. "You can read the rest yourself. It's my understanding that, at this point, the JAG officers who are investigating have spoken only to you and the captain, so this is a perfect time to put an end to this."

"Are you ordering me to drop the matter, sir?"

"I'd like for you to take that report back to your office and give the matter some thought. If you let the investigation continue and the other witnesses support Captain Rabb's version of events, you'll be putting your political ambitions in a pine box. So, before I'd let my wounded ego or pride keep me from committing career suicide, I'd think long and hard about what was best for everyone. I'm sure that you'll make the right decision."

"Yes, Sir," Davenport stated.

"One more thing, Pat, in the interest of keeping this office out of it, I want you to know that giving you this information will be the last assistance that I or the State Department will give you concerning this matter."

"So, you're telling me that I'm on my own if I pursue this," Davenport said, not feeling nearly as cocky as he'd been when he'd walked into this office.

"That's correct. You understand ... it isn't personal ... it's what's best for the bigger picture," Pierson said before adding one more bit of advice. "Pat, if I were you, I'd take a look at the man's service record, too. You aren't trying to end some young kid's career who hasn't proven himself...you're going after the Navy's poster boy," Pierson said with a chuckle, laughing at the irony of the fact that Rabb had been on a recruiting poster.

Davenport left Pierson's office under a full head of steam. He was angry. They were on his home turf, Washington, not in some desert, and he couldn't get any cooperation in getting this captain booted out of the Navy.

'Maybe I need to take a different approach or, better yet, find an ally.

A check of not only his service record but his entire background might turn up a skeleton or two that I can use to my advantage,' Davenport thought as he returned to his office.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

Harm had taken on the duties of getting Matthew and Sami down for their naps, so Mac had some free time while she waited for Harm to accomplish this task and be ready to leave for his physical therapy appointment.

Mac did several things around the house before making her way to their bedroom to freshen her make-up, comb her hair and get her purse in preparation for leaving the house, but when his still partially unpacked bag that he'd brought home with him from the hospital caught her eye, she checked the time and decided that she had time to finish unpacking it before they'd have to leave for his appointment.

She started to pull out his clothes when the edge of a folded piece of paper caught her attention, so she pulled the paper from the bag.

It was tri-folded like a letter that was prepared for an envelope.

She quickly removed the rest of his clothing from the bag, resisting the temptation to peek at what he'd written.

'If he'd wanted me to have it, he'd have given it to me,' she thought as she threw his clothes in the hamper.

Having completed her task of unpacking the bag and putting it in the closet, Mac sat on the edge of their bed, clutching the folded piece of paper in her hand for several long moments.

'What if the letter isn't for me?' she thought.

She shook her head. 'He wouldn't write to anyone else...except maybe his children.'

She pondered what to do for a moment before determining that, if the letter was for their children, she'd fold it back up and put it in the nightstand drawer with his rings that she'd brought home with her from Germany.

Mac carefully unfolded the paper and read the first line: 'To my beloved wife and mother of my children.'

The letter was for her.

She took a deep breath and reread the first line and then, without hesitation, she continued to read the message that her husband had written.

To my beloved wife and mother of my children,

I've been staring at this paper for ten minutes because, by writing something down, I feel like I'm surrendering to the idea that I'm not going to make it home and I haven't given up on the idea that I'm coming home. However, if for some reason I don't make it home, I can't let you think that I abandoned you, left you without saying goodbye, so here it goes - just in case.

If these are my last hours, know that my thoughts are of you and the life that I've been blessed to share with you.

With you, I've been happy, truly happy, and though I'm sad to know that our love story is going to end this way, I'm leaving this earth a better man for having known you and your love.

Hug my children and tell them that Daddy loved them very much and will miss them terribly. Make sure that you tell them that I didn't want to leave...that I fought very hard to come home, but it just wasn't meant to be.

Please take care of yourself. I'm sorry that I let you down by not finding a way out of this mess.

I love you, Sarah.

My heart forever yours,

Harm

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

It hadn't taken Harm long to get Matthew to sleep, but Sami had been a different story. However, he'd finally gotten her tucked in and was ready to leave for his physical therapy appointment, so he went in search of his driver, Mac, and found her in their bedroom.

Mac was sitting on their bed with tear trails running down her cheeks when he entered.

At the sight of his wife in this state, Harm quickly went to her.

Sitting down on the bed next to her, he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders.

"Mac, honey, what's wrong?"

"I just got your letter," she said with a sniffle, waving the now slightly crumpled piece of paper.

"I should've thrown it away. I'm sorry that you found it and that it upset you," he said apologetically as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"No need to apologize. I'm glad that I got to read it. I'm just upset because I know how hard this must have been for you to write. You wrote it for me...and the children so that we'd have some kind of goodbye from you, and knowing that you wrote it despite the fact that, in doing so, it made you feel like you were giving up on coming home makes it mean that much more to me."

She'd been speaking with his comforting arm around her and her head resting against him. Before speaking again, she lifted her head and looked him in the eye.

"I have to tell you that my first thought after I heard the news was that you'd left me, but I want you to know that the childhood fear didn't stay with me long because you aren't that kind of man. You'd never abandon your children..." Mac put her hand on her belly. "...especially one that you haven't even met yet." Mac had to fight a new wave of tears. "Your letter was beautiful. Thank you for writing it, but I know that you love me and that you'd never leave me if you had any say in the matter...and that's one of the many reasons why I love you so much."

"And I love you so much," Harm said before his lips descended onto Mac's.

It was just one of those times when a kiss was simply a must, even if it made them late for his physical therapy session.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

After taking part in all of the family activities and bedtime routines, in addition to the soreness of his shoulder from his first session of outpatient physical therapy, Harm was exhausted when he crawled into bed.

"I think that tonight's bath and bedtime routine went a lot smoother than last night. We're starting to get our rhythm back, wouldn't you say?" Mac asked from the door of their bathroom.

"Yeah, I think it went better. Sami sure went to sleep faster tonight. She was out by the time Abigail was ready to be tucked in, and Ty seems to be fine, but do you think that Abigail seems any happier or more at ease with me?"

Mac stepped out of the bathroom and looked at her husband who was reclined against his pillow.

"I know that you're waiting for the 'good night, Daddy' that you were getting before you left, but you need to pay attention so that you catch the little things while you're waiting for the big one."

"Catch what little things?" Harm asked, eager to know what he'd missed and needing to know that he was making progress in regaining Abigail's trust and, hopefully, ultimately her love.

Mac started to walk towards their bed.

"It started at breakfast. Remember when Sami wanted an orange and Abigail wanted a banana, but neither of them wanted a whole one, and you volunteered to eat the other half of both fruits so that they could each have the one they that wanted with their breakfast?"

"Mac, I ate some fruit. How did that help my relationship with Abigail?" Harm asked, not understanding the connection.

"To you it may have been just eating a couple of pieces of fruit, but you didn't see the look on Abigail's face when you took half of her banana. To her, that little gesture was a big deal because it was something that her daddy did to make both of his little girls happy."

Mac could see the wheels in Harm's head turning as he processed her example.

After a brief pause, Mac spoke again. "Then tonight after dinner when we moved to the living room to watch a movie and eat popcorn, she sat next to me on the couch, but I was sitting next to you, and the three of us shared one popcorn bowl."

"True, and this afternoon when I got back from therapy and mentioned that I needed a glass of water, but I thought that I'd have to rest for a minute first...Abigail brought one to me," Harm recalled before continuing, "You think that, even though I'm home and she can see me, she's worried that I'm not okay? You don't think that she believes that I could still die, do you?" Harm asked disbelievingly.

"I don't know. It might be something that you should talk to her about."

"Me!" Harm exclaimed, almost panicked.

"When you feel comfortable with it, yes. I think that this conversation is one that only you can have with her, Harm."

"I'll think about it." Harm paused. "What should I say? How do you even start a conversation like that?"

Mac wasn't sure if his questions were directed at her or if he were simply talking to himself as he pondered the best way to approach his little girl about her fears.

Mac snuggled into Harm's side and gave his lips a soft kiss good night.

"You'll figure it out. You have a way with women," she said with a wink and a grin.

Harm smiled and kissed his wife good night in return.

Harm would have trouble falling asleep, his mind restless as ideas of when and what to say to Abigail filled his head, but he did eventually fall asleep just minutes before Abigail entered the master bedroom to take her place in bed next to her mother.

Harm, in his sleep, automatically encompassed his little girl with his arm, and the three of them slept peacefully.


	91. Chapter 91

**PART THREE - Those Three Little Words **

**MONDAY, JULY 7, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**2357**

Harm, figuring that it was some kind of sleep induced sensation, ignored the feeling that he was being watched for quite awhile before he finally gave in to his curiosity.

Thankful that he'd be able to really _see_ whoever was staring at him, he opened his eyes to find out if he was imagining things.

When he opened his eyes, sitting on the bed in Mac's place, her eyes glued on him, was his little girl, Abigail.

Harm wasn't surprised that she was there since, from his first night home from the hospital, she'd been starting out in her own bed, but, around midnight, she'd made her way into their room and spent the remaining hours of the night sleeping with Mac and him. However, he was wondering why she was awake and where his wife was at the moment.

"Where's Momma?" Harm asked softly.

"She had to go to the bathroom," Abigail answered shyly.

Harm still hadn't had the talk with Abigail that Mac had suggested almost a week ago, even though he knew that Mac was right about it being a conversation that he and Abigail should have, so now seemed like as good a time as any to have it.

He'd been home from the hospital for a week now and, if he and Mac were ever going to be able to have their bedroom to themselves - it was definitely time to have that talk since Abigail's anticipated arrival each night had kept them from attempting physical intimacy.

Harm sat up in bed before saying, "Abigail, Daddy wants to ask you a few questions, okay?"

After receiving an affirmative nod, indicating that she was okay with him asking her questions, he began.

"Are you sleeping in here because you don't like your bed anymore?"

"No, I like my bed and my Disney Princesses blanket," Abigail replied.

"Then is there something wrong with your room?"

"No, my room is nice. I liked my room in the old house better, but this one is okay."

"Then why do you come in here to sleep every night?

"Because I'm scared..." Abigail replied, her lower lip quivering.

"There's no reason for you to be scared. Momma and I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm not scared for me," Abigail replied with tears in her eyes.

The threat of tears was tugging at Harm's heart, so he had to tell himself that her being a little upset now was better than her continuing to be scared and never being able to sleep in her own bed again. Therefore, he continued to question her.

"Then what are you scared of?"

She hesitated before answering, so Harm pleaded, "Please tell me so that I can help you not to be scared anymore."

"I'm scared that you aren't going to be here anymore," she answered

"I understand that, when I got hurt, it scared you, but I'm fine now and I'm home, so I don't understand why you're still scared that something is going to happen to me. Can you tell me why you're still scared?"

"If you're fine, how come someone takes you to the hospital almost every day?" Abigail asked, looking up into Harm's eyes. No longer able to hold in her tears, they spilled over, running down her face.

Abigail had been legally his daughter for more than a year now, but his relationship with her still wasn't as comfortable as his relationship with Sami was, and he always took precautions not to make a move that might frighten her, like hugging her without some indication that she wanted to be hugged, but, tonight, he didn't stop to think first. He just reached out and pulled her to him in order to comfort his crying daughter.

"Oh, Princess, I'm fine, really. I'm sorry that I didn't make it clear to you why I have to go to the hospital," he began in a reassuring tone as he settled her into his lap.

Abigail felt better by just being in her daddy's lap, and she let herself rest against his chest as she continued to cry.

"Because I hit my head in the accident, the doctor says that I can't drive for a little while. That's why someone has to take me, and the reason why I have to go to the hospital isn't because I'm not better. I go to have physical therapy. Do you know what physical therapy is?"

Abigail shook her head, indicating a negative response.

"Physical therapy is when you have to do special exercises to build up the strength of muscles that have been hurt so that you can do the things that you did before you got hurt."

"So when you go to the hospital, you don't see a doctor?" Abigail asked.

"I see the doctor once a week...on Wednesdays...so he can check to make sure that the exercises that I'm doing are working, but that's the only reason why I see the doctor."

"Are the exercises hard?" Abigail asked, her tears now stopped.

"No, they aren't hard, but sometimes they make my shoulder sore, and that's why I come home and take a nap sometimes, not because I'm sick, but because I need to rest after working so hard at getting better."

"If it makes your shoulder hurt, why do you do the exercises?"

"Because of the kind of injury I had, a sore shoulder means that I'm stretching the muscles so that I'll soon be able to do the things that the doctor doesn't want me to do yet, like pick up you and your sister." Harm paused, wondering if he'd explained what physical therapy was and his need for it well enough for her to understand. Then it dawned on him that maybe if she saw a therapy session for herself, it would help. "You know, I can't think of any reason why you can't go with me, so, if Momma says that it's okay, do you want to come with me to my next appointment?"

"Do you mean it? May I go with you?" Abigail asked, sounding excited about the outing.

"We'll have to check with Momma first, but yes, if she doesn't have any objections, you may go with me," Harm said, feeling much better.

Unbeknown to Harm and Abigail, Mac had started to exit the bathroom when she'd heard their voices and had been listening to their conversation from a position just inside the bathroom door, out of sight, but ready to jump in if she was needed. She'd heard the conversation from when Abigail had admitted that she was scared to Harm inviting her to accompany him to his next PT session

Mac decided that it was time that she made her presence known.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Mac said, stepping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. "If we're all going to have such a busy day tomorrow, I think that another good idea would be for all of us to get some sleep."

Harm released his comforting embrace on Abigail, and she moved from his lap. However, instead of moving to sleep on Mac's other side, she lay down next to him.

Mac, too, was a little surprised by the sudden turn of events, but happily went to sleep with her daughter between her and her husband because it was her belief that this had been a break-through and that Abigail was well on her way to sleeping in her own bed again.

**TUESDAY, JULY 8, 2008**

**CONFERENCE ROOM**

**JAG HQ**

**FALLS CHURCH, VA**

**0800**

The morning meeting had been called to order, and Cresswell had asked everyone to take a seat, though he almost always stood during staff meetings.

Cresswell grabbed the top two folders from the stack of ten or twelve on the table in front of him.

"First up, the assignment of several new cases..."

Cresswell dispensed with the new business quickly and then turned his attention to current cases. Cresswell asked questions about pending trials before turning the focus to cases in the first stage: investigation.

"Commander Chase, how are you and Hayworth coming on the Rabb investigation?"

"We've spoken to all but two of the men who were there, Sir. One of them is in a psychiatric hospital, and we've been told that he's starting to make progress, but, at this time, his doctor believes that answering any questions would be detrimental to his recovery, so we've been barred from speaking with him, and we haven't been able to question the last man because he appears to be a mystery man, Sir."

"What do you mean by 'a mystery man', Commander?"

"His name is listed, but there's no company or agency listed as a contact, and our calls to the State Department, who we hoped would have a complete list of those who were on the diplomatic tour, haven't yielded any information on the man, Sir."

"In order to go on that tour, security clearances had to be issued for the participants. Those security clearances would had to have come through either the CIA or the DOD. One of those two agencies should be able to give us some information on your mystery man. Give me the name, and I'll make a few calls."

"James Macmillan, Sir."

Cresswell picked up a pen and scribbled down the name on a piece of paper. "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thank you, Sir," Commander Chase replied.

Commander Chase wasn't sure that another witness would be necessary since they'd already spoken to the captain and six other men who'd been involved in the incident. He was confidant that, with only one man having had anything disparaging to say about Captain Rabb or his actions - Patrick Davenport, the one who'd filed the complaint - one more witness wasn't going to change what his report was going to say.

However, when Chase had been assigned this case, he'd been told that the integrity of this investigation wasn't to be compromised and that there were to be no short cuts taken because they were investigating one of their own. This investigation had to be above reproach, so if Macmillan could be found, he needed to talk to him so that every witness possible would have been interviewed before handing in his final report.

**KITCHEN **

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1450**

Abigail ran into the house, wanting to share the news that she had with everyone, but it wasn't until she reached the kitchen that she found her grandmother and older sister.

"Grandma and Mattie, we're home and I have great news!" Abigail sounded excited, and she was very animated as she spoke, a rarity for her.

"Well, you must tell us immediately. What great news do you have for us, sweetheart?" Trish asked, walking over to her granddaughter.

"I talked to Miss Carol, and she says that Daddy is going to be fine, and we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"That is good news, Abigail...very good news," Mattie told her sister, though she was a little confused because Harm had said that he was going to be fine when they'd all sat down for a family meeting the night that he'd been released from the hospital, but Abigail sounded like she'd just heard the news today. "Grandpa and Ty are in the backyard playing catch. Let's go tell them the good news, too," Mattie suggested, not letting her confusion over the situation detract from Abigail's excitement.

A few moments later when Harm entered the kitchen, Trish was glad that her granddaughters were outside because she wanted to find out who Carol was and what she'd said to her granddaughter to make her so happy.

"What happened at the hospital?" Trish asked Harm the moment he entered the kitchen.

Harm had no idea what his mother was talking about and answered her question with a question.

"Why would you think that something happened at the hospital?"

"Because my granddaughter, Abigail, just came bouncing in here with a big grin on her face, announcing that Carol had said that you were going to be fine...so tell me, who is this Carol and what did she say to Abigail that made her so happy...happier than I think that I've ever seen her before?" Trish said, eyeing her son.

"Carol is my physical therapist, and she was great with Abigail today. She let her stay in the PT room to watch me do my exercises and she answered Abigail's questions. The happy mood is probably a combination of finding out that I'm not seeing a doctor every time I go to the hospital and Carol answering her questions."

"When you told me this morning after breakfast that Abigail was going with you to the hospital this afternoon, I was wondering why, but I didn't want it to seem like I was questioning your parenting skills. Now, judging from how happy she is, you and Mac made the right decision to take her. What made you decide that it was what she needed?"

"Abigail and I had a little talk last night, and I learned that she's been upset because she thought that I still might die because I have to go to the hospital so often. After telling her again that I had to go for physical therapy, it dawned on me that maybe the problem was that she didn't know what that meant. Then, after I explained what it meant, it occurred to me that maybe the best way for her to understand was for her to see for herself why I go to the hospital."

Trish smiled sheepishly. "Do you know that Abigail referred to you as 'Daddy' when she told Mattie and me a few minutes ago that she'd talked to Miss Carol and that we didn't need to worry about you any more because you were going to be fine?"

"She did?" Harm replied, his face breaking out in a grin.

"Yes, she did," Trish said with a smile as she watched her son's grin grow bigger.

Even if Abigail hadn't called him 'Daddy' directly, she was at least referring to him to others as her dad. There was joy in knowing that, and he couldn't stop the widening grin that appeared on his face.

"I'm going to go tell Mac," Harm told his mother before he left the kitchen.

Trish shook her head and smiled as she watched her son leave the room with purposeful strides.

A few minutes later, Harm found Mac.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," Harm said with his big grin still firmly in place when he saw her exiting their bedroom.

"I had to use the bathroom and thought that I'd freshen up while I was at it," Mac said before asking, "Why were you looking for me?"

"Are you okay, Mac?" Harm asked, concern about his wife causing his smile to fade. She'd freshened her make-up before they'd left for the hospital.

"I'm okay...just a little tired, that's all...just part of being pregnant...nothing to worry about."

Harm's grin returned.

"Well, hopefully you'll be able to get a good night's sleep tonight when just the two of us are curled up in bed together."

"Aren't you forgetting about Abigail joining us every night?" Mac questioned.

"Well, I think that she just might stay in her own bed tonight," Harm stated, slipping his arms around his wife's waist.

"What makes you think that?"

"Call it a feeling...based on the fact that she told my mother a little while ago that there was no reason to worry about her daddy anymore because she'd been to the hospital and talked to Miss Carol who said that I was going to be fine."

"She called you 'Daddy' when she talked to your mother?" Mac inquired.

"Yes, she did," Harm replied with a wide, happy grin on his face.

"That explains the goofy grin on your face," Mac said with a warm smile on hers.

"I don't have a goofy grin. It's a happy smile," Harm said defensively.

"Whatever you say," Mac said, rolling her eyes.

"I love all my children, but I can't help it. There's just something extra special about Abigail calling me 'Daddy'."

Mac had taken off her shoes to be more comfortable and had to roll up on the balls of her feet to place a kiss on her husband's lips.

She pulled her lips from his before speaking.

"Let's go, Dad. We've got to decide what we're going to feed those children of ours for dinner."

"Mom was in the kitchen when I saw her, so she might be already working on something, but if she isn't, let's go out to dinner to celebrate...no, wait, you're tired. We shouldn't go out. Then if my mom hasn't started anything for dinner, let's order pizza."

"Sounds good," Mac said with a smile, happy that he'd revoked his dinner invitation because she really didn't feel like putting her shoes back on and going out...to eat or for anything else.

**GIRLS' BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**ABIGAIL'S BEDTIME**

Mac had tucked her daughter into bed and had wished her good night before moving back to stand in the doorway to watch as Harm played Abigail a song and said his good nights before they moved on together to tuck Ty into bed.

The song having come to an end, Harm put down his guitar.

"I'm glad that Miss Carol said that it wouldn't hurt your shoulder to play the guitar. I missed you playing for me before I go to sleep," Abigail said softly.

"I'm glad that she said that it was okay, too, because I've missed playing for you," Harm replied before he tugged at the top of her blanket, saying, "Now, let's make sure that you're all tucked in."

"I am."

Harm leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. When he pulled away, he looked down and whispered, "Good night, Abigail. I love you. Sweet dreams."

"Good night, Daddy."

Those three little words were music to Harm's ears, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Good night, Princess," Harm said before placing a second kiss on her forehead, thankful that the lights in the room were off so that the tears of joy welling up in his eyes couldn't be seen by his daughter, because she might misunderstand the reason for his tears.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**AFTER TUCKING IN TY**

"You've still got that goofy grin on your face," Mac said teasingly as she entered their bedroom.

"I don't have a goofy grin on my face," Harm responded, but not as defensively as earlier as he followed her into their bedroom.

"That's right. It's your happy smile," she told him as she turned around to face him.

"Exactly," Harm said as he took his wife into his arms.

"I think you may be right about Abigail staying in her own bed tonight," Mac said, letting the teasing subside.

"I hope so...for so many reasons," Harm said before covering Mac's lips with his.

Soon his tongue slipped out from between his lips and glided along her bottom lip, and she readily complied with the request, her lips parting to allow his tongue entrance into her mouth.

After a soul searing kiss, Harm gradually pulled away.

"I know what you're going to say and I agree. We need to wait a few days to make sure that she's going to sleep in her own room for the entire night. I just wanted to let you know that I'm looking forward to being with you when we can be fairly certain that she's okay. In addition, we've had a busy day today, and you need to get some rest."

Mac sighed. Did he have any idea what that kiss did to her? But he was right, they couldn't be sure that Abigail wouldn't come into their room tonight, and she wanted to make love without worrying if they'd be caught in the act by their daughter. Besides, she was very tired tonight. She could use a good night's sleep. He was right about that, too.

Harm kissed her on the end of her nose before claiming, "I get the bathroom first."

When Harm came out of the bathroom, Mac had her hand in her purse."

"Not thinking about going out now, are you?" Harm asked, teasing her.

"No," Mac said before pausing as she pulled something small out of her purse.

She wrapped her hand tightly around the object, making a fist before moving towards him.

When she reached Harm, she took his left hand and held it in hers.

"I know that this isn't the romantic way that you gave mine back to me, and I was going to have it cleaned and polished while I was out on Friday doing last minute errands for the party, but I think that the scratches suit you," Mac said as she slipped his wedding ring back on his finger. "I wanted to give it to you tonight to let you know that I'm looking forward to being with my husband again soon."

Harm pulled her into his arms, and the two shared another passionate kiss before getting into bed.

Harm lay there, finding it hard to go to sleep.

He kept fiddling with his wedding ring.

He hadn't worn it in weeks, and it felt funny to have it on again...funny, but wonderful at the same time.

Abigail had called him 'Daddy' tonight, and Mac still loved him and wanted to be his wife in every way ... things were definitely looking up this evening.

Mac was lying awake thinking about Harm's other ring, his Academy ring.

She figured that he'd been waiting for her to give back his wedding ring the way that he'd given hers back to her after her CIA assignment shortly after they'd been married and were all in San Diego, but why hadn't he put on his Navy ring yet?

Mac was tired and wanted to sleep, but the question about his Navy ring kept nagging at her.

"Harm, are you awake?" she asked softly in case he was asleep.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't be," he replied.

"I wouldn't be except that I've been lying here wondering why you haven't put your Academy ring back on yet. Is it because there are so many things about the Navy that are still up in the air that you don't know how much longer you'll be in the Navy?"

Harm reached out and took her hand in his.

"I didn't think that it was a good idea to put it on until I was sure that the children were okay with everything that's happened. I also didn't want to put on my Academy ring before I was wearing my wedding ring again. I couldn't have you thinking that the Navy was more important to me than our marriage," he explained before asking, "What things are you talking about being up in the air?"

"The outcome of the investigation and whether charges will be filed, and then there's the chance that, no matter how small the doctor thinks it is, rehab won't go as well as they hope and that you'll never be given medical clearance to return to full duty. You have thought about those two things, haven't you?"

"As far as the shoulder goes, I can't say that I'm not getting frustrated that my recovery isn't progressing faster, but the doctor and my physical therapist seem confidant that, if I can be patient and not push myself too hard, I'll regain full range of motion and use of my arm. So, the answer to your question would be no. I haven't given that much thought because I don't consider there to be any risk of me having to leave the Navy because of the injury."

Harm took a deep breath, hoping that he could be as concise with his answer regarding the second situation as he'd been with the first, because the thought of Davenport getting him booted from the Navy made him angry, and he couldn't think about the topic for too long without his blood coming to a boil.

If he got that worked up at this time of night, he'd never get to sleep.

"As far as the investigation goes, I reviewed my decisions a dozen times over the course of my hospital stay and I wouldn't change a thing I did. If Davenport can bully the Navy and the Judge Advocate's office into filing charges, then I'll serve him my shoulder boards on a silver platter at a State Dinner. If a man like Davenport has that much power, the Navy isn't for me anymore."

Harm had to take another deep, cleansing breath.

"Have you thought about what you'll do if that happens?"

"Not really, and if you don't mind, I don't want to talk about it tonight. We've got a long day at the hospital tomorrow between your OB appointment in the morning and then my appointment with the doctor and my therapy session."

Harm let the room fall silent, but decided that he wanted to say one more thing to his wife.

"Mac, I love you, and no matter what happens with the shoulder or the investigation, as long as I have you and the kids, I'm going to be okay. You don't need to worry about me."

"I love you, and your children love you, too, so I guess that everything's going to be fine," Mac said before giving Harm a quick peck on the cheek and whispering good night in his ear.

"Good night, Mac."


	92. Chapter 92

**PART FOUR - Blissfully Happy **

**WEDNESDAY, JULY 9, 2008**

**JAG HQ**

**FALLS CHURCH, VA**

**1300**

Lt. Commander Chase heard the rap on his door frame and looked up to see that his visitor was General Cresswell, who had a manila envelope tucked under his arm.

"As you were," General Cresswell ordered before Chase could get to his feet. "I've just come by to tell you that I finally got a response to the calls that I made on Tuesday about your mystery man."

"Did you get some contact information on Mr. Macmillan, Sir?"

"No..." Cresswell began as he pulled the envelope out from under his arm. "...but this envelope was delivered by special courier ten minutes ago. It contains a notarized statement from one James Macmillan."

"A statement that was written when a member of the investigative team wasn't present, Sir? That won't be admissible in court. Sir, don't you find this a little strange?" Chase asked as he took the offered envelope.

"I do, Commander, but I was informed via a conversation just moments after this statement arrived that Mr. Macmillan is unable to be questioned at this time, and his statement was provided to us so that we could make this investigation go away. It seems that agencies out of our realm of 'need to know' have already reviewed the incident and found that Captain Rabb's actions were indeed heroic and that the military should consider giving him a medal, not file charges against him. They want the matter closed."

"Sir, so that I'm clear, are you ordering me to find in Captain Rabb's favor and close the investigation?"

"I believe that you were ready to award the captain some kind of commendation yourself when we last spoke about the case, so I doubt that this statement will change that. I know that it's hard to accept information when you aren't certain of the source, but I believe that it goes along with what you've already learned from the others. You do what you feel you have to do, but have a report - final conclusion or status - on my desk by the end of the day, Commander."

"Sir, may I ask who this Macmillan guy really is or at least who he works for?"

"I'm not in the loop on that either, Commander. My best guess would be either military intelligence or CIA, but he could be with Homeland Security. Hell, they could've created a new agency that we know nothing about to deal with the war on terrorism. Either way, this needs to be wrapped up ASAP."

"Yes, Sir," Chase replied before Cresswell left his office for his own.

**GUEST ROOM  
RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**2030 (LOCAL) - 1730 (PACIFIC)**

"Trish, that's the third call from the gallery today. I know that you wanted to see Harm before we left, but he's home and he's going to be fine, so maybe it's time that we thought about going home. You do have a business to run," Frank said after watching his wife close her cellphone.

With the frequency of the calls from the manager of the gallery on the rise, Trish knew that Frank was right in that their returning to San Diego to iron out a few problems with her business was for the best. However, she felt that she was needed here, too.

"I know that we should go back home, but did you see how tired Mac is looking...and Harm is doing well, but with his injury, how much can he really help her until he's farther along with his rehab, and when he's able, they'll be putting him back on duty, and Mac will still be on her own. She'll never get any rest. I don't see how we can leave here right now," Trish replied to Frank.

"Mattie's here for the summer, so it isn't as if Mac will have to do everything by herself, and Mac's friend, Harriet, will help out. It isn't like we'd be leaving them in a bind. You know that they were getting along just fine without us before when Harm was away, so I think they'll be fine without us now," Frank pointed out to his wife.

"Mattie's a young woman who needs to enjoy her summer vacation, not be running errands and doing housework. I mean, we aren't talking about the average family of four here. Harriet is a dear woman, and I gather a very good friend of Mac's, but she's got four children of her own. It's best to call on a woman with that much on her plate in cases of emergency only, but you're right, dear. I do need to go home and take care of a few things. I wish that I knew someone who we could call to take over for us here," Trish declared with a sigh.

"I'm retired. I could stay here and help out while you go take care of gallery business, or we could hire someone to help ... I could make some calls in the morning," Frank suggested.

Trish's eyes became wide with delight.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Frank prepared himself to hear which of his options had made her so happy.

The answer was neither. She'd come up with an idea of her own.

"Frank, I've thought of the perfect person ... someone we all trust to take care of the children. I just hope that she can come. I'll call her in the morning to find out. If she can't come, we'll have to discuss your ideas with Harm and Mac."

**FRIDAY, JULY 11, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**0745**

Mac loved Abigail, but she had to admit that not having to share their bed made sleeping easier.

It was really a combination of having her husband to herself and knowing that their little girl was feeling safe enough to sleep in her bed all night again that allowed Mac to sleep peacefully.

Mac yawned and stretched in preparation for getting out of bed. Then she heard a door open and close, and opened her eyes to see her husband coming into their bedroom.

"Good morning, Beautiful. I'd have let you sleep later, but I know that Harriet is supposed to pick you up at 0900 to run some final pre-party errands. To make sure that you've got the energy for all that running around, I've brought you some breakfast," Harm said with a smile as he walked carefully towards the bed, carrying a breakfast tray.

'He would've let me sleep later?' she thought, quickly checking her internal clock.

It was 0745.

No wonder she felt so rested. She'd overslept again.

"Harm, you should have awakened me sooner. You shouldn't be overworking that shoulder by making breakfast, and I don't want your parents to think that I can't take care of you and their grandchildren," Mac said, reaching for the covers to get up.

"First, I made breakfast only for you because my parents took the kids out for breakfast ... not because they don't think that you can handle taking care of us, but because they're trying to spoil them as much as they can before they go back to San Diego next week. So sit back, relax and enjoy your breakfast before Harriet gets here to whisk you away," Harm said as he put the tray down in front of her.

Mac's eyes started to roam over her breakfast plate.

"If they think that I can take care of you, why are they bringing your grandmother here to help out?"

"Because they know that I can't be as much help as I usually am and they don't want you to overdo it while you're carrying another one of their grandchildren. Besides, they're having her come in on Saturday morning so that she can be here for Sami's birthday and the party, not because they think that you can't handle things on your own."

Mac smiled sheepishly. She knew that he was telling her the truth.

She had not only a good man, but his family was wonderful and loved her, too.

"Anyway..." Harm continued "...you don't have anything to worry about. My grandmother is upset with me, not you."

"That's because you didn't call her after you got out of the hospital," Mac reminded him.

"Mom told me that she'd spoken to her and she knew that I was okay. When I got home from the hospital, it isn't that I didn't call her out of spite. I was just so focused on how my children were handling things that calling her simply slipped my mind."

"Breakfast looks delicious," Mac commented as she reached for her fork, changing the subject, hoping to alleviate the guilt that Harm was feeling because he hadn't called his grandmother sooner.

Harm bent over and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm going to leave my girls to their breakfast. If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen."

Mac reached out and caught his hand.

"Won't you stay in here and have breakfast with us?" she asked with a slight pout.

"Okay, if that's what my girls want, I can stay."

Mac smiled as she pushed a fork full of her egg white omelet into her mouth.

After chewing the first bite and taking a gulp of her juice, she reloaded her fork as she asked, "You aren't disappointed that we found out at my appointment on Wednesday that this baby is going to be a girl, are you?"

Harm smiled his trademark flyboy grin.

"No, I'm not disappointed." Harm kissed his wife on the cheek as she pushed another bite of her omelet into her mouth. "Given Sami's adamant stance that she wants another brother so that she can still be my little girl, I don't know how happy she's going to be that she's going to have a little sister, but I think that it's perfect that we're having a girl this time."

To be more ladylike because she still had food in her mouth, Mac put her hand in front of her mouth before asking, "Perfect, how?"

"Perfect because it means that you and I will have one biological child of each gender, which means that we won't ever have to wonder what a little girl or a little boy of ours would look like. We'll just have to look at Matthew or ... have you thought of a name for her yet?"

"No, I don't have a name yet. We've known that we're having a girl for only two days. Look how long it took us to decide on Matthew's name," Mac countered.

"I have to point out that you had our son's name all picked out. It just took until after he was born for you to convince me that his name should be Harmon Matthew."

"Okay, since you've just pointed out that I picked out the name last time, why don't you pick out a name this time?"

"I think that we should let the children have some input on the name this time. It might help Sami to accept that she's getting a little sister if she gets to help pick out her name," Harm suggested.

"What if she picks out something that's too strange or that we hate?" Mac questioned.

"Good point," Harm said with a cocked eyebrow. "I guess we'll have to come up with the name and hope that she likes it, too."

"No use of any names of women who you've dated, so Annie, Jordan and Renee are definitely out, Sailor," Mac said with a stern look before pushing the last bite of her omelet into her mouth.

"Understood, Ma'am," Harm said with a grin before saying, "I'd better take your tray and get out of here so that you can shower and dress before Harriet arrives to pick you up.

Harm made it to the bedroom doorway before Mac called out, "Wait, if everyone is gone, I can't go with Harriet. I'll need to take you to physical therapy."

"They went only to breakfast. They're going to be back before I need a ride, and both Mattie and Frank are more than willing to take me, so go with Harriet and have a good time. I'll get to physical therapy. Don't worry."

They exchanged loving smiles before Harm left the room to let Mac shower and dress.

**OUTSIDE THE RABB RENTAL HOME**

**1520**

Immediately following a therapy session, Harm's shoulder inevitably ached, so he either tried to take a nap or find some activity to try to keep his mind off his throbbing shoulder.

Today when he got home, his children requested that they be allowed to ride their bikes, so he was happy to grant the request.

It was a warm afternoon, but there was a slight breeze blowing, perfect weather for letting them ride, and being outside would be a good way to ignore the ache in his shoulder, knowing that the pain would ease to a mild, manageable discomfort after awhile.

Harm had been watching his children closely, but when a late model white sedan pulled up in front of his home, he went on high alert because he wasn't expecting any company and he wasn't feeling in top form to fend off anyone who might try to grab one of his children.

A man got out of the car, and it didn't take Harm but a second to recognize him. It was Chuck Hanson, the reporter from the Washington Post.

"Captain Rabb," Chuck called out to him as he walked in front of his car, carrying a notepad.

Chuck was about to step up on the curb when a bicycle went whizzing by at top speed.

"Sorry, Sir," Ty hollered as he passed the man who'd called his dad by his Navy name, something that Ty thought was odd since the man wasn't in uniform.

"Ty, round up your sisters and put your bikes away," Harm called out to his son.

"No need to make them quit riding on my account, Captain," Hanson said as he stepped up on the sidewalk. "We can talk while they ride. I just wanted to see if you had any quotes for me before my story goes to press for the weekend edition," Hanson said as he approached where Harm was standing on the grass next to the sidewalk.

"Is it really time to go inside, Daddy?" Abigail asked as she stopped her bicycle in front of her dad and his visitor.

"Yes, your mom will be home soon," Harm said, his status of being "daddy" full-time causing him to smile when he answered her. After all, it was still new to him. It had started yesterday afternoon. Abigail had said "Hi, Daddy" and given him a hug when he'd returned to the house after physical therapy. Harm had been pleased, but he hadn't expected her to use the word again until she said good night to him. However, to his surprise, anytime that she'd addressed him for the rest of the day, she'd called him 'Daddy', and she'd been calling him that all day today, too.

"Okay, Daddy," Abigail said as she started to peddle for the driveway.

With no children close to them, Harm addressed Chuck Hanson.

"I didn't have a comment before about the 'incident in the desert' or the investigation and I don't have one now. This is my home, Mr. Hanson, and I'd appreciate it if you left before you upset my family."

"You don't know yet, do you?" Hanson asked.

"Know what?" Harm asked.

"There is no more investigation. The official report by way of a press release from the Judge Advocate General's office late yesterday afternoon stated that there was no evidence of any wrong doing, and that, based on all the information gathered, you acted in the best interest of the survivors, both military and civilian, under the most strenuous of circumstances."

Harm looked at Hanson in disbelief. If what he was saying was true, his career was still in tact and all he had left to worry about was the rehabilitation of his shoulder.

Hanson continued to speak. "Now, if you want the unofficial word - my source at the State Department says that someone with more clout than Davenport submitted his statement recounting the events and included a letter stating his personal praise for your actions saying that, and I quote, 'Captain Rabb acted with courage and honor befitting an officer in the United States Navy, and he deserves the utmost praise and respect for his heroism under fire.' He goes on to say that they should be giving you a medal."

"I wonder who was with us that had that much clout," Harm said questioningly, hoping that Hanson would volunteer the information, but figuring that it would cost him at least one quote for the article.

"Has to be Macmillan," Hanson blurted out.

"Why do you say that?" Harm asked.

"Because he's the only one who came back to the States and disappeared without a trace. I found one James Macmillan in the DC area and three more between Virginia and Maryland. Two of the four are boys, ages ten and twelve. One is in a nursing home with Alzheimer's, and the last one, a seventy-year old man, isn't the Macmillan who was with us. I know because I went to see him."

"Trying to get a quote?" Harm asked with a chuckle.

"Sure was ... damned sure wasn't having any luck with you," Hanson chuckled in response, pausing before he continued, "I have one more little tidbit for you. Davenport is listed as being on leave to take care of some family business, but according to my source, powerful people on Capitol Hill feel that he embarrassed the State Department. So, it wouldn't surprise me to find out that they posted him to Outer Mongolia or some place just as undesirable," Hanson added with a laugh.

"Thanks for coming by and sharing the good news. I appreciate it," Harm said sincerely, extending his hand.

"So, still no comment, not even on the outcome of the investigation?" Hanson asked as he gripped Harm's hand firmly.

As the two men shook hands, Harm said, "Still no comment ... but you can quote me on that," he added with a grin.

They broke the handshake, and Hanson looked at Harm. "I'll send you a copy of my story."

"I look forward to reading it," Harm said as Hanson stepped off the curb to get back in his car.

Hanson had made it around his car and opened the driver's door when Harm called out to him.

"Hanson, I can't let you walk away empty-handed after you drove out here to give me the news, so here's a quote from me. 'I'm pleased that the truth has been revealed and that my name has been cleared so that my family and I can enjoy my homecoming.'"

"Thanks, I can use that," Hanson said, slipping into his car and immediately starting to write something down on his notepad.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**1630**

Mac came home from her shopping trip and, after greeting her children and putting away a few things, she went in search of her husband.

She found him sitting on the edge of their bed with his nightstand drawer open and staring at something in his hand.

As she got closer to the bed, she realized that he was holding his Academy ring.

"Harm, what is it?" Mac said as she reached out and touched his shoulder.

"You know ... you were right. I think that having the investigation hanging over my head was the real reason why I couldn't put this ring back on, even though I really thought for a time that it had more to do with the children, but it's over now."

"Your career? What happened?" Mac asked in a panic.

For the first time, Harm looked up from his ring and focused on his wife.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've been clearer...the investigation is over. I've been cleared."

Mac let out a sigh of relief. "How did you find out?"

"The reporter, Chuck Hanson, came by and told me a little while ago. After he left, I called General Cresswell to be sure that it hadn't been just a ploy to get a quote out of me, and he verified that Hanson had been telling the truth."

"So why are you in here alone staring at your ring?" Mac inquired as she took a seat next to her husband on the bed.

"I'm thinking about not putting it back on. Maybe I should retire. I ... we wouldn't have to deal with anything like this again if I did."

"You can't retire now, Harm."

"Why is it that, whenever I've mentioned retiring, you've tried to discourage me from doing it?"

"It's about the timing of when you talk about retiring. If you'd come to me and say, 'I want to retire. It's time.' I'd support you, but that isn't the way it happens. The last time you talked about retiring was when I was retiring. You were afraid that I'd grow to resent you for still being in when I was at home with the children all day. Now, you're talking about retiring after getting hurt and being investigated. I want you to be ready to retire, not retiring in response to a situation."

"Have you always been this annoying?" Harm asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile.

"You think that I'm annoying only when you know that I'm right," Mac said with a warm smile in return. "Now put on your ring."

"Annoying and bossy," Harm said teasingly as he quickly slipped on his Academy ring so that he could slip his arm around his wife's waist.

"I love you," he said before kissing her soundly.

He pulled his lips from hers.

"And I love you, too," she said before placing a quick kiss on his lips. "Now let's go see if we can help make dinner. I'm starving."

Harm smiled as he stood before offering a hand to assist her in getting to her feet.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

Mac had asked for the bathroom first, but she seemed to have been in there for an unusually long time.

When the bathroom door finally opened, Harm dropped the pajamas that he'd been holding, and they landed on the floor.

He found himself staring at her, unable to speak as he took in the sight of her in a pink, knee length, silk and lace nightgown.

"You like what you see? Sailor," Mac said with a purr as she stood with one hand on her hip.

"Is that new?" he asked, managing to find his voice.

"Yes," she began, smiling that her husband had noticed that she'd bought something new for tonight. She'd bought it because the cut of it camouflaged her rounded tummy, and that made her feel sexier. "Abigail hasn't come in our room since Monday night, and we found out on Wednesday that the baby and I are fine, so...I was thinking that ... we could celebrate your homecoming," she continued as she sauntered towards him.

Harm had been thinking about how beautiful she was and how much he wanted to make love to her since she'd exited the bathroom. Although Mac was showing, she wasn't big enough yet to impede him from doing just that, so he replied by taking her into his arms and bringing his lips to hers.

Mac responded to his kiss by placing her hand at the back of his head, keeping his lips on hers until the need for air forced them to part.

Harm dipped his head into the crook of her neck and began to kiss along an invisible line up to her earlobe. While he was doing this, he felt her hands make contact with his skin as they made their way under the hem of his pullover shirt and moved up his back.

Her touch made his skin hot, and feelings of desire started to boil within him.

He brought his lips to hers and he didn't have to ask for entry. Her lips parted, and his tongue slipped into her mouth where her tongue dueled with his as his hands roamed over her.

As they kissed, their hearts raced and their bodies started to tingle, the intensity of their passion and desire heightening quickly due to the weeks without physical contact of this kind.

When their kiss ended, Mac had Harm's shirt off in seconds, joining his pajamas on the floor.

Frustrated that his shoulder wasn't up to scooping up his wife and putting her down on the bed, he could think of nothing else to do but to suggest, "Let's get more comfortable."

Once they were lying on the bed, Harm began his assault on her senses once again, this time beginning to kiss her neck from just below her earlobe, down her neck and along her collarbone until his face was nuzzled in the cleavage between her warm breasts.

Harm slipped one of the straps of her nightgown down her arm, exposing most of one breast, and he kissed her soft flesh until he'd kissed the entire exposed area. Then he hooked the tip of his index finger under the edge of the fabric and pulled gently until her nipple was exposed. He first kissed and then swirled his tongue around her nipple, causing her to release a moan of pleasure.

Pleased with getting that reaction from his wife, he moved to her other breast, treating it to the same attention that he'd given the first one and receiving the same response.

There was a sense of urgency and need about their reunion, but, at the same time, both wanted to experience the pleasures of not only the joining of their bodies, but of the love that they shared, so they didn't rush.

As they kissed and touched each other before their joining, I love you's and I missed you's were exchanged.

It was Mac who gave into the longing first. "I want you," she said, panting.

"I want you, too," Harm replied breathlessly as he nibbled at her earlobe.

"Now please," she pleaded.

They were both near the edge. It was time to enter her.

He positioned himself above her. Moving slowly and carefully, he didn't attempt entry until he'd taken a moment to test his shoulder to be sure that he could maintain a position that would keep the majority of his weight off of her.

The moist warmth that surrounded him as he slowly entered her was almost enough to be his undoing by itself.

"You okay?" he whispered after he'd eased the entire length of himself inside her.

"Un huh," she responded incoherently as his hardened shaft began to pulsate inside her, causing her walls to contract and expand in mind numbing convulsions.

Harm felt a small twinge of pain in his shoulder, but it passed quickly, and he was glad of that because he needed her so badly that he couldn't stop now.

Harm moved in and out of her as slowly as he could stand it until, in a fit of need, she ordered him, "Harder, faster."

He hoped that she was as close as he was because following either of her requests wouldn't allow him to hold on for long.

Mac was closer than he'd suspected. He'd pulled back and was pushing back in for the third time after her request when she arched her back and her fingertips dug into the flesh of his back. Her moans turned to gasps for air.

As he pushed himself inside her for the fifth time, he let out a primal groan as he exploded inside her, causing him not to hear her simultaneous groan, which signaled that she'd climaxed as well.

After he'd collapsed beside her so as not to harm her or the baby with his weight, he rolled her limp body into his arms, certain that they'd experienced a mutually satisfying homecoming reunion.

They lay there, enjoying the closeness of lying naked together, blissfully happy with being in love ... and with their life, until sleep claimed them.


	93. Chapter 93

**PART FIVE - Finally Home **

**SATURDAY, JULY 12, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**0217 **

Though Harm hadn't felt much discomfort in his shoulder while making love to his wife, he was certain that the pain that he now felt was due to supporting himself during their union. Of course, if there had been more than a twinge at the time, the pain had been masked by his consuming need to reach release.

Harm was tired and wanted to sleep, but the pain wasn't allowing him to do more than drift off before waking him again.

The first couple of days home, he'd taken a pain pill at night to allow him to sleep, but after that, he'd used them sparingly. They made him groggy, and that didn't allow him to be at his best with his children. However, if he didn't give in and take one now, he wasn't going to get any sleep, and he'd be tired and of little use to Mac later today when they had a house full of company and she might need his help.

Harm slipped from the bed and went into their bathroom.

He removed the prescription bottle of pain medication from the medicine cabinet before grabbing the glass on the counter and filling it half full of water.

After removing a single pill from the bottle, he put it in his mouth and took a gulp of water to wash it down.

The still red scar on his shoulder, though looking better, caught his attention in the mirror, and he stared at his reflection for a moment.

Harm didn't know whether to cuss that his injury hadn't allowed him to scoop up his wife and make love to her without causing him pain or be thankful that, even though he'd been injured, he was home and the timing was such that Mac wasn't so far along that he couldn't make love to her. In a few more weeks, being on top wouldn't be a suitable position for him to use because of her growing belly.

He decided to be thankful and left the bathroom to return to bed.

It took twenty minutes, but the pill's effects finally started to take hold, and Harm was able to fall asleep.

**0532**

Mac had slept better than she had in weeks and woke feeling well rested.

She slipped out of bed and padded quietly to the bathroom.

When she exited the bathroom a few minutes later, instead of gathering items to shower and dress, the sight of her husband's bare chest drew her back to bed.

Mac began to place feather light kisses on his chest.

It wasn't until she changed her strategy and began to kiss him on the neck that he began to stir.

"Harm," she whispered in his ear.

"Mmm," he responded sleepily, the pill still having an effect on him.

"Last night was wonderful," she purred. "You haven't lost your touch..." Mac's hand slipped under the covers and below his waistline. "...but you know what they say ... once is never enough."

"No one says that. It's just the name of a Bond movie," Harm mumbled sleepily.

"It's in a song. 'Once is never enough with a man like you'," Mac said before nipping his earlobe.

Harm offered her a sleepy smile before enveloping her in his arms.

She brought her lips to his, and they began to kiss.

Getting lost in the kiss, Mac relaxed against Harm, and her weight sent a shooting pain through his shoulder, causing him to pull from the kiss.

"Oh, Harm, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Mac asked.

"My shoulder's a little sore, but it's okay," he replied.

"You hurt your shoulder when we were making love last night, didn't you?" Mac said with remorse.

"It was just a twinge. It aches now, but it was worth it." He said the latter, raising his eyebrow and offering a crooked smile. "I don't think that I'm up to doing it again just yet, so it looks like once is going to have to be enough."

"Not necessarily," she purred. "You did all the hard work last night. I can do it this morning," she said, smiling mischievously before her lips claimed his again.

**KITCHEN **

**0630**

"Good morning," Harm said as Sami entered the kitchen, rubbing one of her eyes with her fist. "Do you want oatmeal or eggs for breakfast this morning, birthday girl?"

Sami lowered her hand before answering, "I want birthday cake for breakfast."

"Cake isn't a healthy breakfast," Harm responded, scolding her slightly.

"I'll drink milk with it," Sami retorted, trying to make a deal with her daddy.

"No cake," Harm said firmly.

Mac tried a reasoning strategy with Sami.

"If you have some of your birthday cake for breakfast, there may not be enough left for the guests at your party, and you wouldn't want one of your friends not to have a good time at your party because they didn't get any cake, would you?"

"No, I want everyone to have a good time at my party. They won't want to be my friends anymore if they don't have a good time," Sami reasoned out loud.

"Eggs, I guess," she replied disappointedly to the breakfast question. "Can I have bacon with them?" she asked, her tone becoming cheerier.

"Yes, you may. Do you want to help make breakfast this morning?" Mac asked.

Sami nodded affirmatively.

"Then go wash your hands and report back to me, and you can be my helper this morning."

"Okay," Sami replied, skipping off to wash her hands.

Harm and Mac began to gather the necessary items for making the agreed upon breakfast and, once Sami was out of the room, Mac told Harm, "Now I see why Harriet says that she picks up the cake the morning of the party and not the night before. No matter how much more convenient it might be, if the cake isn't here yet, you don't have to deal with requests to have cake for breakfast."

"Lesson learned...we won't make that mistake again," Harm responded with a chuckle as he began to crack eggs.

"Maybe you should be resting that shoulder...I can recruit Mattie to help me and keep an eye on Sami."

"The pain is down to a dull ache, and I want to help you and spend some time with the birthday girl. Since I don't have an assignment to help get things set up for the party, my shoulder isn't going to get much of a workout today."

"Probably not, but what about tonight after..." Mac had to cut off her sentence because Sami reentered the kitchen, showing off her clean hands and announcing that she was ready to help.

"You do have a pre-party task," Mac said, switching gears. "Mattie is going to drive you to the airport to pick up your grandmother, remember?"

"May I go with you to pick up Gee Gee, Dad?" Ty asked, entering the kitchen.

"Sure you can, Buddy," Harm replied, greeting his eldest son with a pat on the back.

"We have to leave your mom and your grandparents here to get ready for the party, but if it's okay with Momma, all you kids can come with Mattie and me to pick up Gee Gee."

"Even Matthew?" Ty asked.

"I don't see why he can't come, too," Harm answered.

"Cool, I'll go tell Abigail," Ty said, turning to leave the room.

"That's your idea of taking it easy on your shoulder ... taking all of our children who are excited to see their great grandmother to the airport," Mac stated flatly to Harm.

"I thought that it would give you more uninterrupted time to get ready for the party," Harm responded, sounding as if he's doing it only because he's trying to be helpful.

Mac leaned close to Harm so that Sami couldn't hear and whispered to him. "It's also a good diversionary tactic, Rabb. She'll be either too caught up in greeting her great grandchildren to scold you for not calling her or, if she does say something when she sees you, she won't be too hard on you in front of them...very clever of you."

Harm responded with one of his trademark flyboy smiles as Mac moved closer to the stove to watch over the bacon that she was frying.

**1400**

Guests had begun to arrive, so when there was another knock on the door, Harm opened the door wide and greeted their next guests with a warm smile.

This time it was General Cresswell and his wife, Dora.

"Good afternoon, General and Mrs. Cresswell."

"Dora, please," Mrs. Cresswell responded to Harm's greeting.

"General, Dora, glad you could make it. Please come in," Harm said, stepping aside to let them in. "I think that most of the guests who've arrived are either in the kitchen or the backyard. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the way."

**HOURS LATER**

With the party over, Harm and Mac stood on the back porch, looking out into their backyard.

"You throw a great party, Mrs. Rabb," Harm said, slipping his arm around his wife's waist.

"Thank you, but I couldn't have done it without Harriet ... and I must say that Keeter was certainly a big help with the children today."

"So you caught his Captain Jack, the pirate act, did you?" Harm asked with a grin.

"Yes. Did I ever mention to you that your parents told me that he came by the house a few times after the news broke that you'd been hurt. He read the children stories using funny voices. He made them laugh and helped keep up their spirits while they were waiting for you to come home. He's really quite good with children. He'd probably make a great father."

"Looking to trade me in?" Harm asked teasingly.

"No, I couldn't have asked for a better father for my children than you."

"It means a lot to me that you feel that way," Harm said before kissing her temple.

They stood there for a while, just enjoying the peace and quiet until Harm broke the silence.

"You look tired tonight, Mac. I think that we should go to bed right after we get the kids tucked in."

"I feel tired, but I hope that I don't look as bad as Dora Cresswell. She really looked worn out. Harriet told me that she's heard rumors that she's very ill, but there's no word on what it is, and though General Cresswell hasn't confirmed any illness, he hasn't denied that she's ill either," Mac informed Harm.

"When the general came up to tell me that they were leaving, he just said that she hadn't been out much lately and that, though they hadn't been here long, he thought that it was best that he took her home," Harm explained.

"I hope that she's going to be okay," Mac said sincerely.

"Me, too," Harm said before changing the subject. "Did you see Mattie and Kevin holding hands today?"

"Yes, but I didn't know that _you_ did," Mac replied with a grin.

"Yes, I noticed. Do you think that we should ask her if they're dating?"

"We don't have to do that. Your grandmother saw them, too, and she asked Mattie if he was the new boy in her life. Mattie told her that they're just friends and that holding hands doesn't mean anything. She said that they hadn't kissed or anything like that and that he likes another girl. Debbie I believe was the name of the young lady in question." A smile broke out across Mac's face. "So, my guess is that you shouldn't pick the name Debbie for the baby either. I've also added Kate and Catherine to the list of names of former flames of yours that you can't use."

"Why do I get the impression that I should just let you pick out her name?" Harm asked with a smirk.

"Maybe because you think that it'll be safer for you," Mac said with a smile.

Harm laughed.

"That could be it."

Silence fell between them again as they looked out to the backyard and remembered some of their favorite events from the party.

For Mac, it had been seeing their friends raise their glasses to toast Harm's homecoming.

For Harm, the scene that had brought the most joy to his heart had been watching their children and their guests playing in the backyard, their laughter filling the air. His children had been happy, and that had made his day.

"Let's go clean up the kitchen a little and put away whatever we have to tonight. We'll do the rest tomorrow. I want to go to bed as soon as we get the kids down for the night. I'm exhausted. Parties are fun, but they're a lot of work," Mac said as she took Harm's hand and led him into the house.

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**SAMI'S BEDTIME**

Sami was a child who always said that she wasn't tired, but usually didn't make it through more than two pages of whatever book was being read to her before she was fast asleep.

Mac pulled back the covers as she asked, "Did you have a good birthday, Sami?"

"Yes!" Sami answered enthusiastically.

"Did you enjoy your party?" Mac asked as Sami got into bed.

"Yes, it was fun to have a big girl party. Do I get one next year, too...when I'm five?" Sami asked as Mac pulled up the covers.

"It won't be as big a party as today because today was a party for Daddy being home, too, but I think that we can arrange to have a party more like your sister and brother have when you're five," Mac answered.

"I don't want a princess party," Sami stated to be clear, remembering Abigail's 'girlie' party.

"Why don't you tell Daddy what you liked best about your party today to give us some ideas of what you might want to do next year while Momma goes to start your sister on her bath?"

"Okay. Good night, Mommy," Sami said sweetly.

"Good night, Sami. I love you," Mac said as she leaned over and kissed the end of her nose.

"So what did you like best about your party?" Harm asked, bringing Sami's attention back to him so that Mac could shut off the overhead light on her way out to get Abigail into the bathtub.

"I liked having the twins at our house 'cause I usually get to play with them only at Aunt Harriet's house." Sami paused. "I liked Grandma painting a butterfly on my face. I liked putting the different colored sand in the bottle. My friends liked that part, too, because they got to take their bottle home. I liked my presents. I liked jumping inside the dinosaur. I liked my cake. I liked everything about my party."

He was about to ask her what her favorite gift was to stop her from listing everything that she'd done at her party when her decree that she liked everything about her party ended her rambling.

Harm picked up the book that he was currently reading to her and opened it to the marked page.

"I know what my favorite thing was about my party, Daddy!" Sami said all of a sudden.

"What was your favorite thing, Ladybug?" Harm asked.

"That you were here and not in the hospital," Sami answered with glee.

"I'm glad that I was here, too," Harm said, moving to hug his little girl. "I love you," he said to her once he had her in his arms.

"I love you, too, Daddy," Sami said before Harm released his embrace.

After getting her neatly tucked back into bed, Harm began to read to her from her book.

Sami was asleep before he started to read the second page, so he shut off her lamp and kissed her on the forehead before he whispered, "Sweet dreams." Then he left her room to see if Abigail was out of the tub yet.

**GIRLS' ROOM**

**ABIGAIL'S BEDTIME**

Mac pulled back the covers as she asked, "Did you have fun today?"

Abigail climbed into her bed as she answered, "Yes. I liked the dinosaur jumper and Grandma painting a heart on my face and playing with AJ and Jimmy, and everyone liked Uncle Jack when he was talking like a pirate and telling us stories."

"Uncle Jack is a good storyteller," Harm responded with a smirk.

"Good night, Abigail. I love you," Mac said as she pulled up the covers over their little girl.

"Good night, Momma. I love you," Abigail replied before Mac kissed her daughter on the cheek and moved to her spot at the door to wait for Harm.

"Uncle Jack says that he's known you for a long time...even longer than Uncle Bud. Is that true or is Uncle Jack telling a story, Daddy?"

"He's telling the truth. Daddy has known Uncle Jack for a very, very long time...even longer than I've known Uncle Bud."

"Daddy, is Uncle Bud or Uncle Jack your best friend?"

"They're both very good friends of mine. I don't think that I could pick one over the other."

Harm picked up his guitar.

"Why don't I play you a song so that you can get some sleep?"

Too soon for Abigail, the song was over, and Harm was putting his guitar back on the stand.

"Good night, Abigail."

"I love you, Daddy, and good night."

Harm was so choked up that he didn't want to say anything until he'd had a moment to compose himself, so he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.

When he pulled away, he looked down and whispered, "I love you, too. Sweet dreams, Princess."

Harm stood and stepped quickly towards the door. He whispered excitedly to Mac, "Did you hear?"

"I heard," Mac said with a smile and tears in her eyes. She was so happy for him.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME **

Mac had said her good nights to Ty and had gone to their bedroom. She was tired. She'd washed off her makeup, applied lotion to her dry skin, brushed her teeth, changed into her nightgown and was exiting the bathroom when Harm entered their bedroom.

"Have you recovered yet?" Mac asked, knowing that Abigail saying that she loved him had to have shocked his system.

"I'm not sure. I can't believe it, yet I know that I heard her say it. You heard her say it. She really sees herself as my daughter now."

Mac reached him, and Harm wrapped his arms around her.

"Being home with my family, you and me making love again and Abigail saying that she loves me... I can't tell you how good it feels to be home." Unable to finish his thought because it would mean admitting that, though it was the kind of homecoming that he'd dreamed about, the reality was a little overwhelming, so he just let out a sigh.

"I love you," Mac began as she gave him a squeeze. "I can't tell you how happy we are that you made it home."

"I love you," he replied before kissing her soundly.

The kiss coming to a natural close, their lips parted.

"I think that you and I could both use a good night's sleep, so why don't you get into bed and get comfortable while I get ready for bed?" Harm suggested.

"I'd like to argue with you, but I don't think that I have the energy for anything other than sleeping tonight," Mac said, releasing him so that he could get undressed.

When Harm exited the bathroom, Mac was already asleep, so he slipped quietly into bed and lay down close to her.

It had been weeks in the making, but as Harm drifted off to sleep, the incident in the desert really seemed to be behind him, and he felt like he was finally home.


	94. Chapter 94

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - CROSSROADS**

**PART ONE **

**THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 2008**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**THE PENTAGON**

**1029**

Harm stood staring out his office window.

On a clear day like today, he could see the tops of key buildings in Washington. The view was pleasant, but it didn't calm his restlessness.

The week of August 4th, Harm had returned to work, but only half days. Then the following Wednesday when he'd seen the doctor, he'd been given the all clear to return to full duty.

After thirty days at home and knowing that his children were still on summer vacation, it was hard for him not to take breaks several times a day and think about what they were doing at home without him.

He hoped that, with the children returning to school after the long Labor Day weekend, he'd find it easier to keep his mind on business.

Harm continued to stare out the window, but his thoughts changed from ones of his children to how much easier he believed his return to duty would've been if he'd come back to a good case. That's what he needed, to be out in the field investigating or to be in the courtroom, stretching his legal muscles, so to speak, instead of stuck in an office, writing legal opinions based on the reports of others.

The captain's door was open, and Lt. Commander Roberts entered his office with a stack of folders about an inch thick in his hand.

Since the captain didn't make a move to turn around nor did he speak, Bud believed that he hadn't heard him come in.

"Captain Rabb," Bud said to get Harm's attention.

Harm kept looking out the window.

"What is it, Bud?"

"I was just bringing copies of -"

"Just leave it on the desk, Bud," Harm said, cutting him off.

"Yes, Sir," Bud said before doing as instructed and placing the folders of information on Harm's desk.

Captain Rabb had seemed to be distracted, perhaps restless was a better word since his return to duty, and after three weeks, Bud thought that he should make some kind of inquiry into the reason.

"I know that this may be a little personal, Sir, but if you don't mind me asking, are you doing okay?"

Harm turned around to face the younger officer.

"I'm okay, Bud," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I mean, I'd completely understand that you might not be feeling like you want to be here, Sir. I know after my injury when I came back to duty, I was a little out of it for...well, until you called me on it, Sir."

Bud knew that he was overstepping the boundaries of a junior officer, but this was no ordinary senior officer. This was his mentor, his friend. If there was anything that he could do, he wanted to help.

"Bud, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine," Harm said calmly, knowing that Bud's comments were coming out of friendship and that he meant no disrespect.

"I know that Harriet is throwing an end-of-the-summer barbeque on Monday, but do you have anything else planned for the long weekend, Bud?" Harm asked, changing the subject.

"No, Sir. Do you have plans, Sir?"

"We do. Mattie starts her second year at Tech on Tuesday, so we're all going out to Blacksburg, well, except for my grandmother. She says that she wants to enjoy some time alone, so she's going to stay behind and take care of Cocoa. We'll stay with Mattie and check to make sure that everything in the house is in good working order since she hasn't been out there in a couple of months, and while we're out that way, I'm planning to take up my plane. She and I haven't had any flying time since I got married. I think she might be getting a little jealous." Harm said the latter with a cheeky grin.

"Sounds like you've got a full weekend planned, Sir."

"We do, ending with the Roberts' famous end-of-the-summer barbeque on Monday afternoon."

"So you're coming, Sir?"

"Yeah, we wouldn't miss it. Mattie won't be there, of course, because she'll be staying in Blacksburg for school, but the rest of my clan will be there," Harm said with a smile before glancing down at his desk. "Well, I guess I'd better get some work done," Harm added, his reluctance to get back to work evident in his tone.

"Yes, Sir. I believe the SecNav wants your recommendations on his desk by Tuesday morning, and I know that you don't want to work over the weekend."

"No, no, I don't, Commander...so I'd better get to it."

"Yes, Sir," Bud said, coming to attention and doing an about face to leave the room.

Harm picked up a folder and opened it to find notes on important points that Bud had written and paper clipped to the inside.

Harm shook his head. He was going to miss having Bud around. His last day with him here at the Pentagon was tomorrow.

After the extended weekend, Bud would be returning to HQ. The only reason why he'd been here this long was to cover for him while he'd been out on medical leave, and then his stay had been extended by order of the SecNav to ensure that Harm was up to speed on current projects, thus making sure that the team had a flawless transition.

Harm would still have a lieutenant and a petty officer on his staff, but it just wouldn't be the same without Bud around.

'Was it March yet?' Harm thought teasingly to himself.

He was ready for a new assignment.

Even his command position as Force Judge Advocate Europe had been more mentally challenging than this gig.

He needed a change ... that's why he was restless.

**KITCHEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1215 **

"It's always so quiet in here when the young ones go down for their nap," Grandma Rabb said as she sat down at the table.

"I know. Sometimes the quiet bothers me because I'm so used to the noise, but there are times when I like to sit and enjoy it," Mac commented absent-mindedly in response.

"Like today?" Grandma Rabb said like a question.

"Is it that obvious?" Mac asked with a quizzical look.

Grandma Rabb began, "I wouldn't say that it was obvious, but I've learned enough about you to know when you have something on your mind, and you've had something on your mind for at least a couple of weeks now...around the time of your doctor's appointment. There isn't anything wrong with you or the baby, is there?"

"No. It's nothing like that. The baby and I are fine," Mac answered with a smile.

"If you and the baby are okay, then it must be that grandson of mine who has you frazzled and in need of some quiet time. What has he done, dear?" Grandma Rabb asked.

Mac's smile grew bigger as she thought that at least some of Harm's tenacity had definitely come from his grandmother.

"Harm hasn't done anything," Mac responded, but under the disbelieving gaze of Grandma Rabb, Mac quickly added, "We're fine, really."

"Okay, what are you worried that he's going to do?" Grandma Rabb asked, probing for an answer to what was on her granddaughter's - by marriage - mind.

Mac knew that his grandmother wasn't about to relent now, so she was contemplating how she could explain her feelings to the older woman when Grandma Rabb spoke again.

"It might make you feel better to talk about it," Grandma Rabb said, prodding lightly and hoping to get Mac to open up and talk to her about what was on her mind.

It wasn't that Mac didn't want to talk about what was on her mind. It was that, if she was going to talk to anyone, it needed to be Harm. Harm's grandmother couldn't do anything, and Mac couldn't do anything except wait and be there when Harm was ready to talk.

"I'm worried about Harm," Mac said abruptly.

"The doctor didn't tell you something about his health that he isn't sharing with us, did he? Is that why he's been coming home early every day and spending every possible minute with the children? Then he stays up until all hours of the morning, finishing work that, if he'd stayed at the office a little longer, he probably could've gotten done there," Grandma Rabb said with a shrug.

"No, the doctor said that Harm is fine. It isn't his physical health that I'm worried about. I'm worried that he hasn't worked through the emotions that an experience like what he went through in Iraq is sure to stir up."

"You think that he might be suffering from post traumatic stress?" Grandma Rabb asked bluntly.

"Maybe...I don't really know. I just know that a man who's whole life has been about following in his father's footsteps and being a naval officer is now contemplating retiring," Mac answered.

"Did he seriously discuss it with you or did he simply mention retiring in passing?"

"I'd say that he mentioned it in passing not long after he got home from the hospital, and he's brought up the subject a few times since then, but I didn't think that he was serious because of the context in which he mentioned it. You know that he's been getting offers to do all kinds of things since the news made him a hero. He's said things like, 'Look, an offer for me to write a book. Yeah, I could retire and write a book,' and then he'd throw the paper away. I didn't take him seriously, but ... I'll be right back. I want to show you something," Mac said before getting up.

Mac returned a few moments later, carrying a piece of paper.

"I found this...not in the trash, but on his desk a couple of days ago, and now I don't know if he was joking or if he was trying to bring up the subject of retiring without being direct about it. Unless he's interested in taking this job, why would he keep this one letter?"

"Am I to understand that you haven't asked him that question because you think that he wants to retire and you don't want him to?" Grandma Rabb asked.

"That's really the problem. I haven't come up with a way to question him without it sounding like I don't want him to retire, and the fact is that I don't really care." Mac sighed. "I don't mean that the way it sounded. I mean that it's his decision and I don't have a preference either way."

"Then what's the problem, dear?"

"I'm worried that he isn't thinking clearly. That he ..."

Grandma Rabb interrupted because she thought that she understood and she wanted to see if she could sum up what was worrying Mac without watching the woman struggle with trying to get her thoughts together.

"...That he's acting on unresolved fears or concerns created by his recent experience and not because he really wants to leave the Navy."

"Exactly... The first time he brought up retiring, I thought that I explained my view that, if he was ready to leave the Navy, I'd support his choice, but that I didn't want his decision to retire to be a reaction to his experience. If he leaves for the wrong reason, he'll never be happy."

"I understand what you mean, dear, but I don't agree on one point. If my grandson has you and those children, I don't care what he's doing, he'll be happy."

"I want him to be more than just happy. I want him to be ..." Mac couldn't think of how to express the way that she wanted him to feel.

Grandma Rabb patted her arm reassuringly while she was speaking. "I'll talk to him to find out what he's thinking, so I don't want you to give it another thought. I'll take care of it."

"Grandma..."

Grandma Rabb could see the concern in Mac's eyes.

"Don't worry, dear. I have my ways. He'll never know that we talked. Now, you go lie down and get some rest before the little ones get up. It'll give me some time to think of how I'm going to get Harmon to tell me what's on his mind."

Mac nodded and hugged the older woman before going off to her bedroom to lie down.

**OFFICE OF DR ROBERT FELDMAN**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**1735**

His patient had been calm through most of the session, but as Dr. Feldman started to wind things up, the patient started to reply with short, sharp answers.

"Is there something that you'd like to discuss before we end this evening's session?"

"No," he answered curtly. "Yes, there is, actually," the patient said sharply, changing his mind from his initial response. "I've been coming here twice a week for six weeks now. When are you going to sign the form that will allow me to go back to work?"

"I'm not comfortable with signing your release just yet."

His patient interrupted him.

"You still think I'm crazy."

"I don't think that you're crazy, and you've made a lot of progress over the last six weeks, but you're still convinced that all of your current problems are one man's fault. When we've made a breakthrough in that area, I'll have no problem with signing your release," Dr. Feldman stated firmly.

"It_ is _his fault!" the patient screamed. "What's so special about him? Why does everyone take his side?"

"I'm not taking sides. I'm just trying to get you to see the bigger picture. You're blaming someone who was going through the same thing right along with you. He didn't do anything to hurt you."

"He ruined my life, and I want him to pay for it."

It wasn't so much what the patient said, but the cold tone in which he said it that had Dr. Feldman concerned.

"Are you saying that you intend to hurt him?" Dr. Feldman asked.

"Yes, I intend to hurt him. I want to make him suffer the way he's made me suffer. I wonder how Mr. Perfect would feel if he had to come and talk to you twice a week? Or how he'd feel if his wife left him and took his children?"

"I don't think that you mean what you're saying. Why don't we stay here and talk about what you're feeling? This may be one of the conversations that we need to have to get past your anger so that I can sign your release."

The mention of signing his release form had the patient relaxing back in his chair.

"Okay, Doctor, ask your questions so that you can get all the answers to fill in all the blanks so that you can sign my release."

**HOME OFFICE/ DEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**2142**

Grandma Rabb hadn't wanted to take up any of Harm's time with the children, so she hadn't attempted to talk to him while the children were awake and active.

Since he'd come home from work a little after one this afternoon, she was sure that, now that the children were all in bed, she'd find him working in his study.

Her grandson was, if nothing else, predictable, she thought as she approached the study and saw that the light was on and the door was open.

She walked in measured steps towards the room. She was on a mission.

She'd been giving a lot of thought to what she was going to say and she was ready to speak with her grandson.

She entered the room, apparently not quietly, and Harm looked up from his desk.

"Hi, Grandma. Do you need something?"

"Well, I've been waiting until the children went to bed, hoping to catch you alone so that I could talk to you."

Harm dropped his pen onto the notepad on his desk.

"Do you want to talk to me in here or should we go to the kitchen?" Harm asked. His grandmother responded with a quizzical look, causing Harm to add, "If you want to talk to me alone, I figure that it must be serious and I have to wonder if it might be a conversation that might go better with a cup of tea."

Grandma Rabb smiled.

"I think that conversation over tea is always a good idea."

Harm returned his grandmother's smile and stood so that they could go have tea and conversation in the kitchen.

**KITCHEN**

Harm's grandmother placed the mugs of tea on the table and sat down across from her grandson.

She needed to make sure that he bought her version of how she'd became suspicious of his actions so as not to implicate Mac.

She took a sip of her hot tea, placed the mug down on the table and sighed heavily.

It was showtime.

"I know that you've lived your life a long time without interference from me, but I've been noticing things that are making me nervous, Harm, and I've waited as long as I can to ask ... are you and Mac having marital problems?"

Sarah Rabb knew that her grandson would be completely thrown by her question about the steadfastness of his marriage, but knocking Harm off balance was the key to getting him to open up.

It wasn't that she liked to trick her grandson. It was just that she'd learned early on that asking him direct questions usually didn't yield any results.

"No, Grandma, Mac and I are fine..." Harm answered before lifting his mug of tea, but paused before he took a sip. "...but you're home with her all day. Is that what this talk is about? Has she said something to you? Is she unhappy?"

The denial was something that she'd expected. However, his question wasn't something that Grandma Rabb had anticipated, but she didn't let it rattle her.

"No, she hasn't spoken to me about your marriage," she responded without telling a lie. "I've just noticed that you're doting on your children. You've even been coming home early to spend time with them, but you haven't been giving your wife much attention. I know that she's pregnant and may not be able to do some things, but when I was in California, for instance, you used to take her to dinner, just the two of you once a week. You haven't done anything like that since I got here, and with you working after the children go to bed, I surmised that the two of you must be having problems."

Harm chuckled, relieved that it was her personal observation and nothing that Mac had said to his grandmother to make her think that there was a problem in their marriage.

"With Mattie away at school and then the move to DC where we didn't have a trusted babysitter, date night is something that just got pushed aside. You're right, though. I should make more of an effort to show her that I'm still crazy about her even if we aren't going out regularly. As far as working at home goes, Mac needs her rest, and I've been coming home to help with the children, but I'm not the type to shirk my duty, so I get my work done while everyone is sleeping."

"You're going to make yourself sick from trying to keep up that schedule, Harm, and you won't do Mac or your children any good if you do that."

"I'm getting as much sleep as I can," Harm stated.

"You said as much sleep as you can...does that mean that you aren't sleeping well?"

Harm broke eye contact with his grandmother.

"Did I say that I was having trouble sleeping?"

If he couldn't look her in the eye and he was answering a question with a question, this was the opening that she'd been waiting for, and she was ready to seize it.

"You went through a terrible ordeal. It isn't surprising that you'd be having nightmares that would make it hard to sleep."

"I'm not having nightmares, Grandma."

"Well, then, if you aren't sleeping and it isn't because of nightmares, there must be something on your mind," she reasoned out loud. "It might make you feel better to talk about it," Grandma Rabb said, prodding lightly to get him to open up the way that she'd done with Mac.

Harm leaned back in his chair.

"There is something. I've tried to talk to Mac about it a couple of times, but I don't think that she wants to hear it. She hasn't had any problems with this pregnancy, and the last thing that I want to do is to bring up something that might upset her, so I've quit trying to talk to her about it."

"Well, lucky you. I've got two ears and a still warm cup of tea. So, tell me. What's on your mind?" Harm's grandmother said with a raised eyebrow.

Harm was reluctant at first, but his grandmother had always been honest with him in the past and had given him sound advice. If he didn't feel like he could talk to Mac, his grandmother was a good second choice, he decided, and he began to speak.

"It's just that being married and having a family has changed my life, and I find myself at a crossroads. I don't know that the path that I'm on is in the best interest of my family, so I'm thinking about retiring from the Navy."

"The Navy has been a big part of your life for a long time. Sometimes I got the feeling that it was the _only_ thing in your life, so I can understand why the decision to retire is keeping you up at night, but I have to ask if you think that the idea of retiring has come up now because of what happened to you."

"You sound like Mac," Harm stated with a snort.

"Smart women usually think alike," Harm's grandmother said with a smile.

Giving Harm's tendency to get snide or sarcastic when someone ruffled his feathers a chance to pass, Harm's grandmother let the room fall silent for a few moments to let him cool off a little.

After a few moments, she spoke again.

"I know that you want to do what's best for your family, but you've got to consider the possibility that your fear of being MIA like your father or being killed and having your children grow up without you is what's driving your decision, and not that you're ready to retire."

"Matthew is crawling all over the place and using the furniture to pull himself up. He'll be walking soon. Is it so wrong of me to want to be here to see my son take his first steps or to see Abigail play at her next recital or to be at Mattie's college graduation?"

"Of course it isn't wrong for you to want those things," she stated clearly before moving forward to her point. "What happened to you is something that could happen again, but you're a lawyer, not a soldier, so it isn't likely that it will, and you've never let what could happen stop you from living your life." Grandma Rabb reached across the table and placed her aged hand over his larger one. "The decision is yours, not mine to make, but consider this, please. If it were time, if what you really wanted to do was retire, would the decision be weighing so heavily on your mind? I love you, Harm, and I'm sure that you'll make the right decision for yourself, which will be the right decision for your family."

Sarah Rabb knew that this was the place to end their conversation.

"I'd better get to bed or I won't want to get up in the morning, and I know that you have work to finish before you can get to bed, and sitting here keeping me company isn't going to get it done." She patted her grandson's hand. "Good night, Harm."

Harm gave her a half smile. "Good night, Grandma."

**OUTER OFFICE OF DR ROBERT FELDMAN **

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**2215**

Detective Lawson approached the uniformed guard who was standing at the entry of Dr. Robert Feldman's office.

Margie waited until she was close enough to read the officer's nametag before saying anything.

"I'm Detective Lawson," she said to him, showing him her gold shield.

The officer looked at her identification before stepping aside and letting her into the crime scene area.

**DR. FELDMAN'S OFFICE**

Detective Margaret "Margie" Lawson entered the inner office and saw Marcus, a photographer with the crime scene unit whom she knew.

"Marcus, can you tell me anything about our victim or the crime yet?"

"So far, I can tell you that the victim was found by the office cleaning lady around 7:45 this evening, based on the 9-1-1 call. The victim is Dr. Robert Feldman. He's a shrink and this is his office. The victim was struck on the head, but we haven't located a possible weapon yet."

As Marcus filled her in on what little they knew, Margie was already scanning the room, looking for clues.

Marcus would take pictures of the crime scene while others dusted for prints and looked for other evidence, but once they left the scene tonight or in the wee hours of the morning, their job would be done.

It was her job to solve the murder, and the sooner she got started the better, so she liked to look over a crime scene and not wait for the photographs and reports to start filtering in.


	95. Chapter 95

**PART TWO **

**FRIDAY, AUGUST 29, 2008**

**HARM'S OLD APARTMENT**

**NORTH OF UNION STATION**

**1115**

Harm prepared to knock on the door and thought how strange it felt to have to knock on such a familiar one.

Harm rapped hard once and then a second time before dropping his arm and waiting for his friend to answer.

After a few moments, the door opened.

"Harm, come on in," Keeter said as he opened the door wide to let his oldest friend enter his apartment. "I was surprised when you said that you were going to come over this early. Don't you have a job?" Keeter asked teasingly as Harm entered the apartment.

"Yes, I have a job, you bum..." Harm said, teasing his friend in return. "...but it's a holiday weekend, and my boss didn't come in today, so I took the opportunity to be popular with my staff and secured them early."

"So, if you're off for the rest of the day, why are you here? I thought that you were headed to Blacksburg this weekend. You could be getting an earlier start."

"I wanted to drop by to ask if you'd check on my grandmother while we're gone," Harm stated, giving his old bachelor pad the once over, and he could see Linda's touches around the room.

"Of course, I'll check on her while you're away this weekend...but you could've asked me that on the phone when you called to see if I was going to be home so you could stop by, Buddy. So tell me what you really want to talk to me about," Keeter said as he closed his apartment door.

'That's the bad thing about having a close friend. They know you and they won't let you get away with anything,' Harm thought as he considered not sharing what was on his mind with Keeter.

Silence filled the room for too long, so Keeter had to say something.

"You've got a girl, so I can rule out that you need a wingman to get a woman. I've seen the way you look at your wife, so I know that you're still in love with her, which means that you aren't looking for advice on how to break up with a girl. That leaves only one thing, keeping the little woman happy."

"I think I need to retire," Harm blurted out.

"Whoa! My hearing must be going. I thought that I just heard you use the words 'I' and 'retire' in the same sentence."

"Your hearing is fine," Harm stated in a monotone voice.

"I never thought that I'd see the day when _you_ left the Navy. I need to sit down."

Keeter walked to the couch and plopped down on it.

He waited for a minute, but when Harm didn't move, he said, "You can't drop that kind of bombshell on me and then think that you're leaving without explaining yourself. So you'd better get over here and start talking."

Harm moved to sit down and collapsed into a chair.

"I'm thinking about retiring. The statement seems pretty self-explanatory to me. So, what's to explain?" Harm questioned.

"If it were anyone but you, I'd say that it was that cut and dried, but you're a lifer, Buddy. You were born navy blue and you'll go to your grave navy blue," Keeter commented.

After a moment of silence, Keeter asked, "What does Mac have to say about you retiring?"

"She says that it's my decision and that she'll support whatever choice I make," Harm replied, not sharing the apprehension that Mac had expressed about the timing of his thoughts of retirement.

Something clicked in Keeter's mind.

"This sudden interest in retirement wouldn't have anything to do with your recent time in the desert, would it? ... Because if it does, you should talk to someone."

"I'm talking to you," Harm said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I mean -"

Harm knew what he meant, so he cut him off.

"- A shrink...I know what you mean, but I don't need one. I've been through worse. When I took that dunk in the Atlantic a few years back, I came closer to dying than I did in the desert. So why would you think that my wanting to retire had anything to do with my recent tour of the Middle East?"

"Maybe because you didn't deny it...or maybe it's because I know first hand that dying isn't always a man's biggest fear. Look, Harm, you may have been in closer scrapes, but that was before you had a family to think about ... what the impact of having something happen to you would have on them."

"True," Harm acknowledged.

"I've never had a family like you do, so I can't even hazard a guess as to what I'd do in your shoes. You're at a crossroads in life where I've never been, so I can't advise you on which road to take. You need to do us both a favor and talk to someone who might be able to help steer you in the right direction."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll give it some thought," Harm said softly.

Keeter nodded, knowing that he'd done all he could to help his friend. He just hoped that Harm took the advice that he'd given him.

"If you aren't in a big hurry to get home, you can come to the hospital with me," Keeter offered, once again being the first to break the silence in the room.

"Are you going to the hospital to see Linda?" Harm asked, subtly making sure that his friend wasn't on his way to see a doctor.

"I'm headed there now to have lunch with her before I make my rounds," Keeter replied as he stood.

"Your rounds?" Harm questioned before he stood, too, envisioning Keeter walking into exam rooms and impersonating a doctor.

"Yeah, I go there a couple of days a week to talk with the old timers and let them tell me a few war stories. Then I go to the pediatric ward to see if I can get the kids to laugh," Keeter replied, making his way towards the door.

"As much as I hate to miss the Captain Jack show..." Harm teased "...I want to get in a stop at the mall. If I hurry, I can make the stop and be home by no later than 1300 so we can head out to Blacksburg early."

"Why are you going to the mall?" Keeter asked as he opened his apartment door.

"I'm looking for ideas of what to give my wife for our third wedding anniversary that's coming up in a few weeks."

"Oh, you meant the shopping mall...now that's a problem that I can help you with," Keeter said, slapping Harm on the back as he passed him to step out of the apartment. "Take your wife away for the weekend."

"I thought of that...thought about taking her to the Bahamas where we honeymooned -" Harm began.

"See? Why do you need to go to the mall? You've already got a great idea," Keeter said proudly as he cut off Harm.

"If you'd let me finish, you'd know that the idea had to be tossed out the window." Keeter looked puzzled. "My wife is going to be close to eight months pregnant when our anniversary rolls around next month."

"Yeah, not such a good idea to take her island hopping, is it?" Keeter said as he locked the deadbolt.

"Any more bright ideas, hot shot?" Harm asked as the two men made their way to the elevator.

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**1435**

Margie Lawson saw her boss headed her way and wanted to run since she knew that he was going to ask about her most recent case, the murder of Dr. Feldman, and it was still simply too early to know much of anything.

She started to head to the ladies room, the one place where her male boss wouldn't follow her, but she'd begun her move too late - he'd spotted her.

"Margie, my office now," he bellowed across the bullpen from his open office door.

Margie was a little put off by his curt demeanor, but it wasn't his usual persona, so something must be up.

'Maybe this doesn't have anything to do with my murder case,' she thought as she moved quickly towards his office.

Margie stepped inside his office and saw a well-dressed man standing in front of the desk.

The office door slammed shut behind her.

The tension in the room was thick, and Margie wasn't sure what she'd walked into and wasn't sure that she wanted to stick around to find out. However, her curiosity of what this was all about won out, and she kept her feet firmly planted on the floor, waiting for one of the two men in the room to enlighten her.

"Margie, this is Agent -"

"My name doesn't matter for the purpose of this conversation," the neatly dressed man said, cutting him off. It matters only that you know that I'm here to investigate the murder of Dr. Feldman with you."

"Thanks, but I don't need a new partner. My old one will do just fine," Margie said sarcastically.

"When your partner finishes his court testimony, you can bring him up to speed on the case, but the two of you will be working with Agent..." Margie's boss looked over at the man in the suit, asking for permission to use his name, but he didn't get it. "Fill him in on what you've got so far."

"What's the CIA's connection to the doctor?" Margie asked bluntly.

"Who said that I was with the CIA?" the man asked. So far, he'd been referred to only as an agent. He could be with the FBI or one of several other agencies.

"You did, by not saying that you were with someone else," Margie shot back, looking the man in the eye.

She'd been a detective in Arlington for almost ten years. This wasn't the first time that one of her investigations had crossed into federal waters, though, on the surface, the murder of a doctor in Arlington didn't seem to have much to do with the federal government or national security.

"Margie, the word to cooperate came from upstairs, so quit yanking his chain and tell him what you know," her boss huffed. He reminded Margie a lot of the Lou Grant character.

"Well, that won't take long, because I don't have much, yet," Margie began. "The coroner's preliminary isn't in, so I don't have an official time or cause of death. I interviewed his secretary earlier today. She's pretty shaken up, but she was able to tell me that she last saw the victim a few minutes 'til three when he came out to call in his three o'clock appointment and to tell her goodbye. She worked for him part-time and left at three every day."

"Well, from that we know that he was killed after three," the man in the suit said. "Did the secretary have any other useful information?" he asked.

"She also said that one of the last things that she does before she leaves the office is to straighten up the magazines. She said that she couldn't be sure without being able to look more closely, but she thinks that a stack of magazines is missing from the waiting room. She was also able to tell me that the desk drawer that was left open and empty is usually locked because of its contents. That drawer is where the doctor kept his letterhead stationary and prescription pads."

"So this could be some junkie who was just after the doctor's prescription pad?" Agent whomever asked.

"I don't believe that to be the case, but it's too early to rule out any scenario," Margie replied in a controlled rhythm. She didn't like this guy at all and she was trying to maintain her cool.

"Why don't you think that it was a junkie, Detective Lawson?" the agent asked curtly.

Margie's boss cut in. "Look, Agent Webb, I can tell you that Margie is one of my best detectives, and if she doesn't think that the doctor was killed by a junkie, then you need to move on because she's good at what she does, and her instincts are top notch."

Her boss standing up for her had given Margie a confidence boost, and she was standing straighter as she addressed Agent Webb.

"For one thing, if the doctor refused to give up his prescription pad, a junkie would've just bashed his head in and taken the pad...done, out of there. However, the killer in this case took his stationery and possibly some magazines. The killer also tried to hide what we believe was the murder weapon under trash in the office restroom, not the usual thought pattern of a junkie just out to score."

"What's your next move?" Agent Webb asked.

"I've requested a court order for the release of the doctor's patient list, but I haven't heard from a judge yet. I'm hoping to get word that the order has been signed before the end of the day. Otherwise, because of the holiday weekend, it'll be Tuesday before I can verify the names and addresses of the patients who the doctor saw after three o'clock. In the more immediate future, I've got an appointment to interview the widow later this afternoon."

"You'll inform me if you learn anything from the widow," Agent Webb said in a manner that made it sound like it wasn't a request.

"We'll keep you in the loop, Agent Webb, but with the long holiday weekend upon us, don't expect us to have much any time soon," Margie's boss stated sternly.

Agent Webb, feeling as if he'd overstayed his welcome, bid the two good afternoon.

Outside the police station, Agent Webb pulled out his cellphone and entered a phone number.

"We have a problem," he said into his phone to the person who'd picked up on the other end of the line. "They've requested the doctor's patient list."

After Webb had done his duty by informing his superior of the police's intent to get a list of Dr. Feldman's patients, Clayton Webb made another call to a now very familiar number. He had plans this weekend of his own that he needed to finalize.

At the other end of Webb's call, the woman saw the caller ID on her phone and looked at her four-year-old daughter.

"I hope that you aren't calling to cancel, Clay."

"No, I was calling to find out what time was best for me to pick up my daughter tomorrow."

**LIVING ROOM**

**FELDMAN HOME**

**ALEXANDRIA, VA**

**1554**

Margie preferred straight forward interrogations to talking to the spouses or significant others of victims. Since spouses are often the perpetrators in a murder, a delicate balance of interviewing the loved one of a victim and questioning a potential suspect had to be maintained, and that wasn't a skill that she'd mastered. Her partner, on the other hand, was good at it, but he hadn't called her yet. He must still be in court.

The man who'd answered the door had left Margie in the living room while he'd gone to get Mrs. Feldman.

Margie was looking at the family photos in various frames that adorned the mantle when Mrs. Feldman entered the room.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Detective Lawson."

Margie, now seeing the woman in person, didn't think that the frail, petite woman could've struck her husband with enough force to kill. There was also the height factor. It would've been hard for Mrs. Feldman at five foot three or four at best to hit her husband in the head when he was at least six feet tall.

"No need to apologize, Mrs. Feldman. I'm sorry for your loss and that I have to intrude on your time with your family, but I do need to ask you a few questions."

"Of course, why don't we sit down?"

When you question a suspect, you let them sit down while you remain standing. However, there was no evidence at this point to suggest that Mrs. Feldman had anything to do with her husband's murder. Obliging her request was part of maintaining a balance. However, Margie waited for Mrs. Feldman to sit down before seating herself.

'Maybe if the victim were sitting down... ' Margie was thinking as she took a seat across from Mrs. Feldman.

'She'd have to wait for the coroner's report to find out at what angle the victim had been struck or confirm Mrs. Feldman's alibi before she could rule her out as a suspect', Margie told herself before beginning her interview of the widow.

"How long were you and Mr. Feldman married?" Margie asked first because she remembered her partner telling her to always start out with small talk with loved ones.

His reasoning was sound. If they're innocent, you want to be sensitive to the fact they're grieving so you don't want to jump right in and ask them for their whereabouts at the time of the murder. Her partner had also said that being nice to the guilty ones can work to your advantage, too. They've been rehearsing what their answers are going to be to the questions that they think that you're going to ask them, and if you engage them in small talk and get them to relax a little, it can throw them off their game, and they aren't so ready with the answers when you get to the big questions, sometimes causing them to slip up and give themselves away.

"Thirty-three years," Mrs. Feldman answered.

"Any children?" Margie asked.

"Yes, three: two boys and a girl...and we have two grandchildren."

The mention of her grandchildren brought a smile to Mrs. Feldman's face.

Margie wished that her partner were here. He'd know what to ask next so that he wouldn't be taking Mrs. Feldman from a happy place, thinking about her grandchildren, back to the place of sadness, discussing her deceased husband, but Margie wasn't him, and she wanted to get this interview over with, so she just asked her next question.

"Do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt your husband?"

"I've been thinking about that almost since they told me that he'd been killed and I honestly haven't been able to think of a soul."

"Did your husband ever tell you about a patient who he was worried about or perhaps had threatened him?"

"No, but then he wouldn't tell me anything about any of his patients. He'd discuss something like that with his friend and colleague, Dr. Jason Twain."

"It would be helpful if I could get his number from you."

"Of course," Mrs. Feldman said as she started to rise.

"I have a few more questions. Why don't we get those out of the way and then you can get me the number?" Margie suggested.

"All right," Mrs. Feldman replied, relaxing back in her chair.

"When was the last time that you saw your husband alive?"

"Yesterday morning...we had breakfast together on the patio."

"What time did your husband usually get home?" Margie asked.

"There's no such thing as a usual time when you're married to a doctor. My husband didn't get calls in the middle of the night to perform surgery or deliver a baby, but he did work late some nights, and not always planned. If he had a patient in crisis, he'd see them no matter what the time."

"He wouldn't call you and let you know that he was working late on those nights when it came up unexpectedly?" Margie asked.

"Not usually, but he was good about calling if we had plans of some kind. I remember last month when we were supposed to be going to see a play with another couple, friends of ours, he called to let me know that he'd received a call from a patient and he was going to go meet them at some diner to try to talk them through a crisis. He said that he was sorry that he had to cancel on me, but that it was okay with him if I went without him so that I wouldn't miss the play."

"Were you at home last night, Mrs. Feldman?'

"It depends on what you're calling night. I got in around eight."

"Where were you between say the hours of three and when you got home then, Mrs. Feldman?"

"Let's see ... I made a few calls in the morning. I took a nap. I'd say I left the house around two. I went to pick up the gift that we'd ordered for our daughter. Our baby's twenty-first birthday is Sunday. Our middle child is getting married on November first, and I stopped for my first fitting on the dress that I'm having made to attend his wedding. I made some other stops, but I don't remember them as well as those two. After I finished my shopping, I went to the Potomac Country Club. I'm a member of the club's charity committee and I had a meeting there at four to discuss our next event. The ladies and I had dinner together after the meeting, and I came home after dinner."

"What time would you say that you left the Club?"

"It must have been around seven," Mrs. Feldman answered.

"I think that's all the questions that I have for you now. I want to thank you for your time, and if you'd give me Dr. Twain's number, I'll be on my way."

"Certainly," Mrs. Feldman said, this time making it to her feet rather quickly.

**GRACE/JOHNSON HOME**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**1600**

Mac had fallen asleep in the car, but the moment that the car came to a stop in front of Mattie's family home, she was wide awake and enthusiastically ready to go to work, though, her work crew wasn't nearly as excited as she was as she barked out her first order.

"The first thing on the list is to open the windows and get the air to circulate for an hour or two. That will take out the musty smell of having the house locked up tight for the last couple of months."

Harm had to wonder if getting Mattie settled back into the house was satisfying some sort of maternal nesting urge for Mac when the family gathered back in the living room to report that the windows were open, and he discovered that she had a numbered list of what needed to be done and was ready to make the next work assignments.

**LIVING ROOM**

**GRACE/JOHNSON HOME**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**2200**

The children had been helping, but it was work, and they hadn't been having much fun. Even Harm's reminders that the work had to get done before they could play had started to lose it's effectiveness for maintaining their enthusiasm for helping. For that reason, Harm had been thankful when Mac had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after eating the pizza that they'd had delivered for dinner.

After dinner, Harm and Mattie had played a game of Chutes and Ladders with the children and had gotten them all tucked into bed.

Harm was now sitting on the coffee table, admiring his sleeping wife and wondering if he should wake her to move to a bed or simply cover her up and leave her on the couch where she seemed to be resting comfortably.

Harm decided that he should leave her alone, so he covered her with a light blanket before he checked to make sure that all the windows had been closed and locked.

After one more peek at Mac to make sure that she was okay and a check of the front and back doors to make sure that they were locked and that his family was safe, Harm went to bed.

Harm needed a good night's sleep, but he lay in bed, tossing and turning.

At first he thought that he was just excited about tomorrow.

Harm was looking forward to some one-on-one time with his oldest son. He and Tyler were going out to the airfield to check on Sarah while Mac took the girls and Matthew grocery shopping so that there'd be something in the house to fix for a healthy dinner tomorrow night.

After forty-five minutes, Harm decided that, though he was looking forward to time with his son, the real reason why he couldn't sleep, especially in a strange bed, was because he missed Mac. So he drug himself out of bed and returned to the living room.

Mac might be comfortable and sleeping soundly on the couch, but sleeping without her reminded him of the nights that he'd spent alone in the hospital, and the memory was too fresh in his mind for him to go to sleep without her in bed beside him.

**LIVING ROOM**

When Harm reached the couch, he paused. Mac looked peaceful and as comfortable as she could be at this stage of her pregnancy, causing him to have second thoughts about waking his wife.

'He was a grown man. He'd slept alone before and he could do it again, especially when, in doing so, he'd be letting the mother of his children get the rest that she needed,' he thought as he turned on his heel to return to the bedroom.

"Harm?" Mac said in a sleepy voice.

He turned back around and was kneeling beside the couch in seconds.

"Yes, it's me. I came in to check on you before I went to bed," he said, taking her hand."

"I'm sorry that I fell asleep on you," she said apologetically, lifting his hand to her lips.

She placed a kiss on the back of his hand.

"No reason to apologize. You did a lot today, and I'm sure that it made you and the baby tired. Did I wake you?"

"No, I woke up because the baby is lying on my bladder," she said, still sounding tired, but she appeared to be fully awake.

Harm got to his feet in order to assist her in getting up as he asked, "Did you want me to get you a snack or find something for you to watch on TV when you get back?"

Getting to her feet, she gave his lips a quick peck before answering, "If you aren't ready to go to bed, I'll stay up with you, but if you're ready, I really think that I could go back to sleep."

"Then I'll see you in the bedroom," Harm replied as Mac stepped away from him.

Harm watched her with a smile on his face like he'd gotten away with something as she headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Of course, he felt as if he'd put one over on her since he hadn't had to confess to her that he hadn't been able to get to sleep without her next to him, yet she was going to be joining him in bed in just a few minutes.


	96. Chapter 96

**PART THREE **

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 31, 2008**

**BLACKSBURG AIRFIELD**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**1130**

Mac immediately had second thoughts about bringing the girls and the baby to the airfield when she looked into the air and saw a yellow plane do a barrel roll.

Her heart rose into her throat as she watched the little plane come out of the roll and then make a loop.

She'd known the second that she'd seen the yellow speck in the air that it was Harm's plane, and his antics were scary enough now that he was her husband and a father to her children, but on top of that, he had one of their children up there with him.

Mac didn't want to watch, but at the same time, she couldn't take her eyes off the plane, so she watched breathlessly until she saw the plane level out and start to slowly descend.

They were coming in for a landing.

Mattie was surprised when she didn't have to close her eyes when the plane's wheels neared the ground, though she did hold Matthew, whom she was carrying, a little tighter and offered up a quick prayer that they'd land safely.

Harm brought the vintage plane down nice and easy.

Once the plane had stopped, Harm cut the engine.

A few moments later, Harm and Tyler were standing next to the plane, looking it over and discussing their flight when Sami's voice rang out from behind them.

"Daddy, I want to fly now."

Harm turned around in time to catch his little girl in his arms.

Mac and Mattie were behind her, trying to catch up.

"Not today, Ladybug."

"But Ty had two turns ... yesterday and today."

"Ty and I didn't fly yesterday. We had to do a tune up to the engine yesterday so that she'd be ready to fly today," Harm explained.

Mac and Mattie, along with Abigail, finally caught up to Sami in time to hear Sami suggest to Harm that there was more to his refusal to take her on a flight.

"It's because he's a boy and I'm a girl that he gets to fly, huh?"

Harm's eyes caught the grin on Mac's face as he began to explain to Sami that her gender wasn't the issue.

"I didn't take Ty because he's a boy." Harm reached over and put his hand on Abigail's head. "It's because you have to be at least this tall to fly in this plane. So, if Abigail wants to, I'd take her up, but you're still a little too young to go up with Daddy...maybe next year."

"I can't wait to be five," Sami said with a pout.

"Do you want to fly with Daddy, Abigail?" Harm asked while giving Sami a big hug.

"No, thank you," Abigail answered with an emphatic shake of her head and her eyes wide.

"Well, I know that Momma doesn't want to fly with Daddy." Harm gave Mac a cocky grin as he leaned over and gave his wife a peck on the lips. "So, what brings everyone out here?"

"We wanted to know if you two busy aviators could break away from your plane long enough to go have lunch with us," Mac said, looking at Harm and Ty.

"What do you say, Buddy? Should we have lunch with these lovely ladies?"

Matthew babbled something.

"Sorry, Pal, I didn't mean to lump you in with the girls," Harm said with a grin while grabbing his youngest son's hand, which prompted the young child to reach out for his father.

Harm gladly took Matthew with his left arm while still holding Sami in his right.

It felt good to be able to embrace two children at once again.

"Harm, if you feel up to one more flight today, will you take me up?" Mattie asked.

Harm and Mac's eyes darted to each other and then over to Mattie.

"Are you sure?" they asked in unison.

"Now or never...isn't that how the saying goes?"

Mac's arm went around Mattie's shoulders. "You don't have to do this."

Mattie appreciated her motherly concern, but stood her ground.

"Yes, I do. I'm not talking about a long flight, just up, a little time in the air and back down...nothing fancy. I don't know why, but today...right now...it feels like the right time."

Afraid that the flight would cause her at least as much anxiety as it did Mattie, even though she'd be on the ground watching, Mac opted to take the children to the park for a few minutes before heading on to the restaurant to meet Harm and Mattie for lunch.

Before accelerating the old Stearman for takeoff, Harm asked, "Are you sure about wanting to do this today?"

"I'm sure," Mattie responded and, moments later, the vintage plane's wheels were off the ground, and they were airborne.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1225**

Cocoa was barking at the sliding glass doors.

Though Cocoa didn't usually bark to go out, Grandma Rabb reasoned that she just wanted to go out to take care of business.

Grandma Rabb opened the door, and Cocoa shot out into the yard, making Grandma believe that Cocoa was trying to get to someone who must be snooping around.

Grandma Rabb stepped out onto the deck in time to see Cocoa drop to the ground.

She felt her age most days, but seeing the beloved pet lying still in the grass gave the aging woman the strength to race down the steps of the deck to the animal as if she were young again.

"What's the matter, girl?" she asked as she stroked the fur on Cocoa's side.

The dog whimpered and, suddenly, Sarah Rabb felt helpless.

If they were at the farm, she'd know what to do. She'd call over to the Thompson place, and one of the boys would come running to take her and Cocoa into town to the vet, but here she didn't know who to call or how to get there on her own.

Not much rattled Sarah Rabb, but she was currently in a quandary that seemed to have no solution and was near tears when she heard someone in the house calling out, "Mrs. Rabb, where are you?"

She knew that voice and had never been more relieved to hear it than she was right now.

"Jack...Jack...I'm in the backyard. Hurry!" Sarah Rabb yelled to catch the attention of the man inside the house.

In seconds, Jack Keeter was out on the deck and, upon seeing the elderly woman kneeling on the ground, Keeter called out, "Mrs. Rabb, are you okay?" as he took the steps to the yard two at a time.

"It isn't me. It's Cocoa. She needs a vet."

"What happened?" Keeter questioned, already bending to scoop up the dog.

"I don't know. She was barking at the door, so I opened it, and then she ran out of the house towards the back fence, but she collapsed right here."

"I can pull up the nearest vet on the GPS in my car. I'll call you when I know something."

"I'm going with you," Harm's grandmother stated firmly.

"Don't you think that you should stay here and inform Harm of what's happened?" Keeter inquired, making his way towards the house with Cocoa in his arms to take her to his car.

"They aren't due back until in the morning, and I don't want to call them until we know if she's going to be okay."

"I always figured that Harm's stubborn streak came from his father. Now, I'm not so sure. Let's go," Keeter said, giving in to the older woman's wishes.

**CAR IN ROUTE TO LUNCH**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**1255**

"Was Mac upset when you called to tell her that we were going to be late for lunch?" Mattie asked.

"No, she was too busy asking me if you were okay and if she should get the kids something at a drive-thru and come back to the airfield," Harm answered with a mischievous grin.

"Let me get this straight. You let your wife believe that I had a meltdown because you were too chicken to tell her that we were having such a good time in the air that we lost track of time," Mattie stated in that critical teenager tone that made one wonder which one was the parent.

"When I called to say that we were on our way but running late, she assumed that you'd had trouble, was concerned about your state of mind and asked questions. What I told her was that I'd thought that a nice, easy, steady flight was what you needed, and it took longer than I'd thought it would, so we were running late."

"So, you told her about the first what, five seconds of the flight? What are you going to do when Ty asks me how my flight compared to his over lunch?"

"I really wasn't thinking that far ahead when I talked to Mac," Harm replied honestly.

Mattie laughed.

"You don't suppose that he won't ask, do you?" Harm inquired.

"Not a chance," Mattie replied, starting to laugh a little harder.

**KELLY'S PLACE**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**1322**

Mac and Tyler didn't want to ask Mattie about her flight because both of them were aware of the accident and the pain that her injuries had caused her, and they wanted to spare her having to relive any bad memories that the flight might have brought back.

As the children began to push the remnants of their meal around on their plates, signaling that they were finished with their lunch, Harm was thinking that he was in the clear about having to confess that he and Mattie had been late because they'd been enjoying themselves so much.

"Mattie, did Daddy make the plane go upside down when you were in the plane, too?" Sami asked out of the blue.

Mattie looked at Harm and then at Sami. "He sure did."

"Was it fun?" Sami asked her older sister.

"Yes," Mattie answered, glancing over to see Mac leaning towards Harm.

Though she couldn't hear the whispered words, Mattie was sure that it was something along the lines of 'I thought you told me that you were giving her a nice, easy, steady flight!' and that Harm would have to explain himself later.

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**1435**

It isn't that a city the size of Arlington locks up shop for a long holiday weekend, but to minimize payroll, city departments are run with a bare minimum of staff. However, since crimes continue to be committed and traffic accidents continue to occur, often the police and the coroner's offices get backed-logged during a holiday weekend, but Margie's victim had been killed before the holiday had begun, so she hoped to get some new information regarding the death of Dr. Robert Feldman today.

Margie Lawson had had her scheduled day off yesterday, but soon after she and her partner, Sal Bellini, had arrived at work this morning, they'd been called to the scene of a suspicious death.

The morning call looked like it was going to turn out to be a suicide, so once they'd wrapped up at the crime scene, they grabbed some lunch and headed back to the precinct.

They entered the bullpen area and headed for their desks near the windows when it occurred to Margie that she'd been filling Sal in on the Feldman murder when they'd been sent out on the call.

"Hey, Sal, I was telling you about the Feldman murder this morning before we got that call, wasn't I?"

"I mostly remember you yelling about the court order for the doctor's patient list being denied," Sal muttered.

"I'm sure that the spook who showed up Friday afternoon got my request squashed, but I'm still not sure why. He hasn't returned my calls. I guess he's on holiday. The whole freakin' world is taking a siesta. Wait, is that all you heard out of what I told you this morning?" Margie asked.

Sal offered her a crooked smile. "Not all, but it was the highlight. I like it when you get all riled up. It shows the passion that you still have for catching the bad guys, and _that_ is a beautiful thing to witness."

Margie dropped into her desk chair while, with a smile, she replied to Sal, "No wonder you've been married for twenty-five years, Sal. A woman just can't stay mad at you."

When Margie broke eye contact with Sal and looked down at her desk, she noticed a large manila envelope that hadn't been there before.

Sal saw Margie lift the envelope, recognized what it was and stated, "Apparently not everyone is taking a siesta. What'd we get...ME's report or crime lab report?"

Margie pulled the documents from the envelope.

"ME's report on Dr. Feldman," Margie replied while her eyes scanned the document for the two boxes that she always looked at first.

"The cause of death was a cerebral hemorrhage caused by blunt force trauma, and the coroner has ruled the death a homicide," Margie said, reading the two boxes of information out loud.

"So who's on the suspect list when we can't get a list of the doctor's patients?" Sal inquired.

Margie was perusing the document and looking at the coroner's diagram of the blows to the head.

"I think that our best bet is to talk to the doctor's colleague, Jason Twain, to see if he can tell us if Dr. Feldman had any patients who he considered a threat. Even if Dr. Twain hangs his hat on patient confidentiality and doesn't give us a name, the fact that the doctor told someone that he felt that one or more of his patients could become violent may be enough to get a judge to sign an order to release Dr. Feldman's patient list."

"You keep reading over the coroner's report, and I'll give the good doctor a call," Sal offered.

"No need. I called him yesterday. He's out boating for the weekend. I left my number with his service. He should call me when he gets back in port."

"Then do you want me to make a copy of the report so that we can both read it?" Sal suggested.

"I'll make the copy if you get the coffee," Margie replied.

"Consider it done," Sal replied, rising from his chair to head to the coffee machine.

**GRACE/JOHNSON HOME**

**BLACKSBURG, VA**

**1640**

At breakfast yesterday morning, Mattie had suggested that she should have tonight in the house alone to get used to the creaks that the older home made at night so that she'd be ready for a good night's sleep on Monday night, the night before she had to get up and go to school.

It really made more sense for the family to go home this evening anyway, rather than to get up early to pack, make the long drive and then attend the Roberts last barbeque of the season. However, there wasn't much to pack except for Matthew's things. It was strange how the littlest member, who couldn't lend a hand, needed the most stuff.

This afternoon, Harm and Mattie had avoided being alone with Mac because they knew that Mac wouldn't want to interrogate them about their flight in front of the other children.

Harm also knew that he was prolonging the inevitable since he wasn't about to sleep alone when he didn't have to, and Mac would be able to question him when they went to bed, but he also knew that, if he gave Mac some time to calm down, she'd be more reasonable when it came to his explanation.

Mattie entered the bedroom that Harm and Mac had been using and found Harm disassembling the portable crib.

"Mac's got out her list and is checking to see if everything you brought with you is by the front door and ready to be loaded," Mattie informed Harm from the doorway.

"I haven't checked the list, but I'm pretty sure that this is the last item. I'd have had it ready earlier, but Matthew was taking a nap in it until a few minutes ago," Harm replied.

"Do you need any help?" Mattie asked, moving into the room towards Harm.

"No, it comes apart and folds up pretty easily. The hard part is getting it into the carrying case," Harm answered as he pulled a release handle and the sides started to give way.

"This is great. I've got both of you trapped in one room," Mac said from the doorway. "So which one of you is going to tell me the _whole_ truth about your flight today?" Mac had drug out the word 'whole,' indicating that she wasn't suggesting that they'd lied to her, but had merely withheld important information.

"I took her up nice and easy and got up to cruising altitude at a nice, steady climb," Harm began.

Mattie took over. "I wasn't scared at all, so I asked Harm to do something simple ... like a turn."

"Which I did," Harm interjected.

"And that didn't bother me either, so I asked him to do something a little more exciting," Mattie continued.

Mattie and Harm continued to switch back and forth until the tale of their entire flight had been recounted for Mac right down to when they'd realized that they hadn't been paying attention to how much time they'd been in the air.

"I did get anxious when it came time to land and I'll have to confess that I closed my eyes until I knew that we'd touched down," Mattie said hesitantly because it meant that they'd finished recounting their story and that all that was left was to hear what Mac had to say about their flight.

The pair looked at Mac, wondering what her reaction was going to be.

They were both a little surprised...and pleased when she said, "If you two did all that, I'm glad that I didn't stay and watch because it sounds like your antics would've sent me into labor, but it does sound like the two of you had a really good time."

Mattie went over to Mac and put her arms around her.

"Harm just didn't want to worry you," she whispered.

"I know, and his macho need to protect me is one of the reasons why he infuriates me and why I love him at the same time," Mac replied softly.

"Are you two talking about me?" Harm asked when he saw Mac whispering something to Mattie and Mattie nodding in understanding.

The two ladies laughed, and Mac responded with a question that was completely unrelated to his.

"Aren't you about finished with that? If we don't get on the road soon, we won't get home at a reasonable hour."

Harm just shook his head at the two of them.

He liked that they got along so well now, but why did most of their bonding have to be at his expense? He pondered this as he finished shoving the portable crib into the travel case and zipped it up.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**2025**

The aroma of something in the oven hit Mac's nostrils the moment she entered the house carrying a sleeping Matthew.

"Grandma must be making something good," Mac commented quietly to those coming in behind her.

"Yeah and it smells great," Ty commented.

"I wonder what she's making," Abigail stated curiously right after Ty's comment.

"I don't know why she'd be making anything so late, especially since she wasn't expecting us back tonight," Harm stated, entering the house last and carrying a sleeping Sami.

"Ty and Abigail, you go change into your pajamas while we put your sister and brother to bed. When we get done, we'll meet in the kitchen to find out what smells so good," Mac said softly so as not to wake the sleeping children.

**KITCHEN**

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Grandma Rabb had heard the family come in, but she hadn't wanted to have to tell them about Cocoa, so she hadn't made any effort to greet them.

"What smells so good, Grandma?" Harm asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Chocolate chip cookies," Grandma Rabb replied, not turning around to face her grandson.

"Why are you baking so late in the evening?" Harm asked.

Harm's grandmother still didn't turn around.

"I like to bake when I'm upset, no matter what time of day it is," Harm's grandmother snapped.

"Grandma, what's wrong?" Harm asked in a concerned manner while closing the distance between him and his grandmother.

Harm's grandmother turned to look at her grandson for the first time, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. She cried on Harm's chest for several moments before getting control of herself.

"Have you put all the children to bed yet?" Grandma Rabb choked out.

"Not all, Matthew and Sami are out for the night. Abigail and Ty are getting into their PJ's."

"Then I don't have much time to tell you about Cocoa."

Until now, it hadn't registered that the friendly family pet hadn't greeted the family when they'd returned, nor had she come up to him for a pat on the head when he'd entered the room.

"What happened to Cocoa?" Harm asked in measured breaths, knowing that, if Cocoa was ill or worse, his children were going to be very upset.

Harm's grandmother began her story. "Cocoa was at the sliding doors, barking. I thought that she just needed to go out, but when I open the door, she darted out. Then I thought that she must have seen someone in the backyard and she was out to run them off. She got about halfway to the back fence when she just collapsed on the grass. I went to her, but I had no idea how I was going to get her into the car and I had no idea where to take her if I did manage to get her there. Just when I was at my wits end, that rascal friend of yours, who you've been having check up on me all weekend, came in to save the day. He scooped up Cocoa, and the computer in his car gave us directions to the nearest vet."

"Where's Cocoa now, Grandma?" Harm asked.

He didn't want to cut her story short, but he knew that Ty and Abigail would be joining them soon and he wanted to have answers before he had to answer their questions about where their beloved pet was.

Grandma Rabb sniffled. "She's still at the vet's office. They wanted to keep her overnight for observation once they found out that she'd been shot with a tranquilizer dart."

"Shot with a tranquilizer dart...who would do that to her? Is she going to be okay?" Harm asked.

They were out of time as Ty came in the kitchen almost frantic. "Where's Cocoa, Gee Gee? I've been looking everywhere for her and I can't find her."

This wasn't a conversation that Harm was looking forward to having, and he certainly didn't want to go through it more than once, so he told Ty to go get his sister and mother and come back to the kitchen so he could tell them about Cocoa.

Harm also wanted to get the answer to the last question that he'd posed to his grandmother before he spoke to the family.


	97. Chapter 97

**PART FOUR**

**TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2008**

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**0855**

Margie and Sal were sitting at their desks, which faced each other, joking over donuts and coffee, but the carefree start to the day was interrupted by the ringing of Margie's phone.

"Detective Lawson," Margie said into the receiver as she set her cup down on her desk.

Margie's caller was Dr. Jason Twain. He'd returned from his weekend boating trip and had received her message.

Before Margie hung up the phone, she had an appointment set to meet with him during his first free hour.

**CONFERENCE ROOM**

**JAG HQ**

**0920**

Judges, with the long weekend in mind, which seem to make it difficult for even the most disciplined military officers to get back into the swing of things, had scheduled the current trials to resume at 1300 instead of the usual 0900. This provided General Gordon Cresswell with the unusual situation of having all of his senior staff available to attend the morning staff meeting.

General Cresswell might have been able to wrap things up within the usual hour, but the truth was that he was in no hurry to end today's meeting. He had an announcement to make, and the additional time had given him a short reprieve before he had to tell his staff, but he could put it off no longer.

"Before you're dismissed, I have something that, even though it's of a personal nature, will impact all of you, so I want to be the one to pass on some information to you this morning."

Cresswell lowered his head and took a deep breath.

When Cresswell lifted his head, he looked down the length of the table, but avoided eye contact with any one person, opting instead to focus on a bookcase that was against the far wall.

"There's been a great deal of speculation going around this office about my wife's health and, this morning, I need to address those rumors. I don't want to go into too much detail, but my wife, Dora, was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of months ago. At this time, we're still hopeful that her treatment plan will lead to her being free of the disease, but it wasn't caught in the early stages, and treatment is hard on her. She still has a long way to go, which has led me to a decision to retire so that I can devote all of my time to supporting her fight. I sent my paperwork over to the SecNav this morning. I believe that I should be able to retire by the end of the year, but I have requested the most expedient release from duty as possible. If my request is granted, I'll be retiring at the end of this month."

Cresswell let out a sigh. He didn't want questions or comments at this time. He was just glad that he'd gotten the words out of his mouth without showing the deep emotion that his wife's illness was stirring within him.

"That'll be all. You're dismissed," Cresswell ordered, and the staff immediately began to file out of the room, most in shock at the news that they'd just been given.

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**1015**

Sal and Margie were finishing up some paperwork on another case when the man from the CIA came to a stop beside their desks.

"Your messages said that you wanted to see me. Did you get any leads on the Feldman murder?" Agent Webb asked.

Margie set the cup of what was probably her tenth cup of coffee today on her desk.

"No new leads yet, but I've got some interviews later today that might give us something."

"Then why were you trying to reach me?" Webb asked, irritated that he'd made the trip down here for nothing.

"I was calling to find out why you blocked me from getting the doctor's patient list, but my partner, Sal, here, has a pretty good working theory on that, and if he's right, I don't figure that you'll tell me the truth, so why should I bother to ask you?"

Agent Webb looked towards the man sitting across from Margie.

"So, Sal, tell me what theory you have," Clayton said while not confirming nor denying that he had anything to do with keeping them from the patient list.

"He was shrinking some government heads - heavy hitting political figures or guys in your line of work. In either case, I'm sure that there are people who don't want anyone to get a look at his patient list...even if one of them is a murderer," Sal answered, his eyes narrowing as he made his last remark.

Clayton Webb had to wonder if he'd underestimated the capabilities of the investigators on this case.

"If you didn't get his patient list, who are these interviews with that you mentioned earlier?" Webb asked.

"I'm going with the theory that the doctor had enemies and, hopefully, he's mentioned them to some of his friends. He and his wife are members of the Potomac Country Club, so we're going to talk to some folks who knew the doctor," Margie answered.

"If you get anything, give me a call," Webb directed before leaving the two detectives to get on with their day.

As soon as Webb was far enough away, Sal looked at Margie. "I thought that we were going to see the doctor's shrink friend."

"We are, but I wasn't about to tell him that and risk him interfering with our investigation any more. After reading the coroner's report, we know that it took several blows to kill the doctor. I believe that it was a raging patient who committed the crime. I also believe that the items missing from his office were an attempt - after the fact - to make it look like a robbery gone wrong."

"Sounds like a plausible theory, given that the most valuable thing taken was the doctor's prescription pad," Sal commented.

**KITCHEN **

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**1224**

With Ty and Abigail starting the new school year today, and Matthew and Sami down for a nap, Mac and Grandma Rabb were enjoying a few moments of casual conversation over a glass of tea when the phone rang.

Grandma Rabb sat at the table, drinking from her glass of tea while listening to Mac's side of the conversation.

After hearing Mac address the caller by name, Grandma knew that she was speaking to Harriet Roberts. However, comments like "that's awful" and "how sad" didn't give Grandma Rabb much of an idea as to what the topic of their discussion was.

Grandma Rabb broke off a piece of her shortbread cookie and slipped it to Cocoa - she'd been spoiling the dog since she'd come home from the vet - as she heard Mac say goodbye to Harriet.

As Mac replaced the receiver in the cradle, the look on her face prompted Grandma Rabb to probe the cause of Mac's disconcerted look.

"It doesn't look like that was a pleasant call. Are the Roberts' children okay?"

"Yes, they're fine. Harriet called to let me know that General Cresswell, the current Judge Advocate General, announced at the staff meeting this morning that he's retiring," Mac replied in a daze.

"What's so awful about him retiring?" Grandma Rabb inquired.

"It's why he's retiring that's the awful part. You met the general and his wife at the party that we had here in July, didn't you?" Mac asked, making her way over to the table.

"Yes, I believe I did. They left early because she wasn't feeling well."

"Yes, that's them, and it would seem that she isn't feeling any better and probably won't be for awhile," Mac stated while sitting back in the chair that she'd vacated when the phone rang.

"That's awful. Do they know what's wrong with her?" Grandma asked.

"Yes, breast cancer," Mac answered, still in shock by the news.

The two ladies sat drinking their tea in silence, reflecting on how fortunate they were.

Finally, the sound of a healthy baby boy waking from his nap filled the air, breaking the silence of the room and sending the two ladies about their afternoon routines.

**OFFICE OF **

**DR. JASON TWAIN**

**1300**

Dr. Twain opened the door to his office and let his patient exit.

Margie and Sal stood, but Margie made it to her feet first. "Dr. Twain, I'm Detective Lawson, and this is my partner, Detective Bellini."

"Please come into my office. I have something for you to listen to," Dr. Twain said in a hushed rush. He seemed nervous.

Once the three of them were behind closed doors, Dr. Twain began to speak in a nervous rattle.

"I was just getting into the office when I called you this morning and I hadn't listened to my messages yet. I would have called you back to meet with you sooner, but my post-holiday schedule didn't allow me the luxury of the time to do that." Realizing that he wasn't making himself clear, he stated, "There was a message from Robert that he left on Thursday evening."

"We'd like to hear the message," Margie stated firmly, but was prepared to hear the patient confidentiality line.

"I thought you might. It doesn't mention any names, but he does voice a concern that might be important, so I don't see where I'd be violating any ethics by letting you listen to it. Consequently, I saved the message so that you could hear it directly from him," Dr. Twain responded.

Dr. Twain reached over and hit play on his answering machine.

"Jason, it's Robert. It's six twenty. Tonight's session with patient P-T-S-D-M-H ran long. I'm concerned that my approach with him isn't working, so I'm calling to see if you'd consult on the case." A buzzer was heard during the last word of the doctor's statement. "H must have left his keys or something behind. Call me and let me know if you're willing to consult on his case."

"That's the entire message," Dr. Twain explained as he reached over and pressed a button on his machine.

"Why is it that you didn't hear this message until after you got mine this morning?" Sal asked.

"This is my private line, not the office number listed, which is the one you were calling, so it isn't picked up by my service. I left the office early on Thursday so I'd have time to stop for supplies for my long weekend sail before I went to the marina to my boat. I spent Thursday night on board. I set sail early Friday morning. I sail to get away from the world, so I didn't find out that Robert was dead until I got in touch with my wife on Sunday, and this morning was the first time that I've been to my office since Thursday."

"When was the last time you actually saw or spoke to Dr. Feldman?" Margie asked.

"At our usual meeting on Tuesday afternoons," Dr. Twain replied.

"Why did you meet every Tuesday?" Sal asked.

"Every therapist has his own therapist. After listening to other people all day, you need someone who you can talk to, but Robert and I didn't use patient names when we talked unless the patient had been informed that one of us was going to be brought in as a consultant on their case so that they could give consent for the other doctor to read their file."

"Dr. Feldman mentions having a session with P-T-S-D-M-H. It sounds like the two of you had a code to keep track of which patient you were speaking about. What can you tell me about the patient that he's talking about by those letters?" Margie asked.

"He and I had a system. The first part, P-T-S-D, stands for the patients condition or diagnosis, in this case, post traumatic stress disorder. The letter M tells me that the patient is male, and the H is the first letter of the patient's last name," Dr. Twain answered.

"The buzzer that we heard during the message, what exactly was that?" Sal asked.

"For those who don't use a receptionist or for those who have only a part-time one like Robert, there's a switch on the wall in the waiting room. When a patient comes in, they flip the switch and a light comes on in the office. After a minute or so, an audible buzzer sounds once to make sure that you've noticed the light, which lets you know that you have a patient waiting."

Margie and Sal asked a few more questions of Dr. Twain, and they were able to extract some helpful information.

The victim was alive and making a phone call at six twenty on Thursday evening, and he had two patients that had him concerned enough to share information about them with Dr. Twain. They also had two patient code names, P-T-S-D-M-H and P-T-S-D-M-D. The first of those two had had the appointment just before Dr. Feldman had made that call, and from the buzzer heard during the message, he'd returned, making him a prime suspect.

With a recording of the digital message from Dr. Twain's machine taken as evidence, Margie and Sal left Dr. Twain's office, hoping that this new information would convince the judge to give them a court order for the patient list.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1400**

Harm's grandmother was sitting in a chair crocheting, and Mac was sitting on the couch with the mail while Matthew and Sami played on the floor. Cocoa was nearby, keeping a watchful eye on her children.

Mac sorted through the envelopes in today's mail. Several were bills that were easily recognized because they came once a month. A couple looked like some kind of junk mail, but two of the envelopes didn't give off the bill or junk mail vibe.

Mac opted to open the one that was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Captain Rabb. Not only did the incorrect addressee strike Mac as odd, but next to the post office box as the return address was the logo of a cable television station, which piqued her curiosity.

Mac read the enclosed letter and then shook her head in disbelief.

She started to throw it away and then decided to put it aside to show Harm, thinking that he might get a laugh out of it.

She couldn't believe that they were interested in having their family be the subject of a reality show.

The other envelope that had caught her eye was addressed to her husband, and the return address said that it was from a Dr. Robert Feldman.

Mac wasn't sure that she should open it.

She usually opened all the mail and sorted it, but this was different. It was addressed to Harm and was from a doctor.

Mac hesitated, but decided that she'd been opening his mail for months now with his knowledge, so if he had something that she wasn't suppose to read, he would've had it mailed to him at the office.

With a shrug, she opened the letter.

The cutout letters and words that she saw on the page told her that this wasn't a letter from any doctor, though the letterhead and envelope looked professionally printed.

After reading the note, Mac got to her feet and went to the phone to call the police.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1522**

Harm had stayed at work longer than he'd been staying prior to the holiday weekend. He'd stayed until it was time to pick up Ty and Abigail from school.

With his children in the car, Harm turned onto their street and saw a police car.

Harm hoped that it only appeared that the car was in front of his house, but with the recent incident with Cocoa still fresh in his mind, he had an uneasy feeling that he was about to find that, not only was the police car in front of his house, but that the officers were inside his home.

"Why are the police at our house, Daddy?" Abigail asked as their car approached their home.

"I don't know, Princess."

"Maybe they caught whoever shot Cocoa with that dart," Ty said with hope.

Cocoa had been kept at the vet's overnight, and Keeter and Harm had picked her up on Monday morning. She and Ty had been inseparable from the moment that Cocoa, none the worse for wear, had entered the house.

"Maybe," Harm responded, unsure that it was the case as he pulled into the driveway.

**LIVING ROOM**

"Hello," Harm said in the direction of the police officers as he entered the room.

"This is my husband -" Mac began, but one of the officers cut her off.

"He's the one to whom the letter was addressed. Is that correct?" the officer asked.

"That's correct," Mac answered.

"What letter?" Harm inquired, feeling very much in the dark at the moment.

"There was an envelope addressed to you. I opened it, but instead of a real letter, there was this cut and paste note." Mac paused. "Where are Ty and Abigail?" she asked, concerned that they were safely away from hearing what the note said.

"I sent them to their rooms to put their things away and then I asked them to look for Gee Gee and tell her that we were home," Harm answered before asking, "What does the note say?"

Satisfied that all of her children were now in the other room with their great grandmother, Mac was ready to answer.

"It says: I got the dog this time. Next time it might be the old lady or one of your cute kids or your pretty wife."

"Mr. Rabb, do you know a Dr. Robert Feldman in Arlington?" one of the police officers asked.

"No, the name doesn't ring any bells. Why?" Harm asked.

"That's the name and city listed in the return address on the envelope in which the note was sent," answered the officer who'd been doing all the talking since Harm had arrived.

"Isn't it kind of strange that he'd send a threat on personalized stationary?" Harm asked, his mind in investigator mode.

"It would seem pretty dumb, but some criminals just aren't very bright," the officer said before reviewing the information that he'd put down in his notes.

To wrap things up, the police officer said to Harm and Mac, "We'll turn this over to the detectives unit. I'm sure that they'll go have a chat with the doctor. If they turn up anything, they'll let you know. In the meantime, if you get any more notes or start to get threatening phone calls, anything like that, give us a call."

With the officers gone, Harm and Mac turned their attention to their children.

Knowing that their dog had been hurt intentionally and now with the police at their home, Harm and Mac were worried that, if they didn't go about their business as usual, their children would be frightened. However, the possible threat to their family was in the forefront of their minds.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

Harm came into the master bedroom from doing a final security check of the house to find Mac sitting on the bed with her laptop.

"What are you doing?" Harm asked.

"I'm Googling Dr. Feldman."

"Mac, stay out of the investigation, please," Harm begged.

"Why? You aren't going to stay out of it, and we make a good team, so you should let me help," Mac countered.

"You want to help me? Then, don't make me worry about you any more than I already am and leave the investigation to the police."

"You heard what that officer said. They're going to turn the matter over to the detective unit. It could be days or weeks before someone gets around to talking to this doctor, and I don't think that he did it anyway."

"Why do you think that?" Harm asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Because I don't think that the doctor would be foolish enough to use his own letterhead to write the note. If he did feel bold enough to use his personalized stationary, then I think that he'd feel some pride in his actions and type the letter carefully. He wouldn't use letters and words cut out of something. From the glossiness of the paper, it looks like he probably used magazines."

"I'm going to get ready for bed while you finish your Googling." Harm kissed Mac softly on the lips.

A few moments later, Mac called out to Harm. "Harm, I know that the doctor didn't hurt Cocoa or send the letter."

Harm came out of the bathroom. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because he was murdered in his office this past Thursday night."

"Mac, maybe it would be a good idea if you took the rest of the family to see my parents..." Harm said with fear in his eyes. Then her round stomach reminding him that a flight across the country probably wasn't such a great idea, he added, "...or up to my grandmother's farm until the police have solved the doctor's murder."


	98. Chapter 98

**PART FIVE**

**WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2008**

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**DETECTIVES' SQUAD ROOM**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**0917**

While Detective Lawson was at her desk, waiting for her partner who'd gone in to see their boss and turn in their final report on the suicide that had happened over the holiday weekend, she heard the voice of her least favorite person these days.

His tone and volume weren't going to get him off of that list any time soon, either.

"I thought we were supposed to be working this case together. So, it begs the question, why did I have to hear through the grapevine that you've asked another judge to allow you to have access to the names of the good doctor's patients?" Agent Webb asked with a scowl.

'Was that look supposed to intimidate her?' Margie wondered.

"If we were working together on this case, you'd have acquired the names for us." Margie's level of exasperation with and lack of fear of the spook caused her to involuntarily punctuate her statement with an audible snort at the end.

"His patients have a right to their privacy -"

Margie cut him off.

"I don't want to hear about the rights of his patients when it's highly likely that one of those patients killed him. Besides, it isn't as if I want to broadcast the list or read their patient files - I just want a list of names. We've received information that there were two patients who Dr. Feldman had concerns about, and one of those two happens to be the last patient who Dr. Feldman was scheduled to see on the night of his death. So, he could have either seen something or be the killer. Either way, he's definitely a person with whom we want to have a chat."

"I thought that you said that his appointment book was written in some kind of code. So how will you know from a list of names who his last appointment was with that day?" Agent Webb inquired.

"We've cracked the code." Margie replied, sounding triumphant, not revealing that it had been an accidental find.

The appointment book code had turned out to use the same code that Dr. Twain and the victim had used to communicate about patients without breaking doctor/patient confidentially.

"You cracked the code," Webb repeated, surprised by the progress that the two detectives had made in the case.

Margie ignored Agent Webb's apparent surprise or disbelief, she wasn't sure which, and continued, "We've been able to decipher that his last patient that evening is male, was being treated for post traumatic stress disorder and that his last name begins with the letter H," Margie said, still proud that they were impressing Agent Webb.

Agent Webb was looking her in the eye, but Margie wasn't sure that he was seeing her.

"I'll make a call and see what I can find out," Agent Webb said abruptly before he turned to leave, heading to his office to inform Director Kershaw of this latest development.

Margie didn't like the spook and was glad that he'd stalked off without asking any more questions.

She wanted to keep Agent Webb in the dark as much as she could for as long as she could, and a longer conversation with him this morning might have forced her to reveal information from a conversation that she'd had earlier with a man named Harmon Rabb.

**1139**

Harm couldn't believe the day that he'd had so far.

Things really hadn't been going well since last night when he'd spent several hours trying to convince his wife to take the family up to the farm for at least long enough to figure out the connection between the note that they'd received and the death of the doctor whose stationary had been used for the note.

At home this morning, he'd tried to get his grandmother to reason with Mac about leaving town, and she'd only echoed Mac's same points: the children had just started school and it wasn't fair to uproot them, Mac hadn't had any problems with this pregnancy so far, but if something were to happen, the doctor who Mac trusted was here.

Along the same lines was the fact that how long the investigation would take was unknown, and Mac wanted to have the baby where Harm could be there the way he'd been at Matthew's birth.

In the end, he'd lost his battle with both the Sarah Rabbs in his life, and his family was staying here.

At work, the SecNav had returned to the office after an extended holiday and wanted to speak to him about a few things.

That meeting had taken longer than Harm had wanted to spend with him, given the other things on his mind.

Harm was thankful that the meeting had started late enough that he'd been able to make a few calls and find out the name of the lead detective assigned to the Feldman murder and call her to inform her of the note on the doctor's letterhead that he'd received yesterday in the mail.

Now, finally away from the office, Harm pulled open the door to the detectives' squad room and asked the first person he saw where he could find Detective Lawson.

After being pointed in the right direction, Harm approached the woman to whom he'd been directed with a purposeful stride.

"If I'm dreaming, don't wake me, Sal," Margie said when she saw a uniformed police officer pointing a tall man in a naval uniform her way.

"He's your type?" Sal huffed.

"Male, tall, handsome ... that makes him definitely my type, and the uniform...well, that makes me feel like I'm not doing enough for my country and that I'd like to start making up for that right now ... with him," Margie said, unable to take her eyes off of the man who was heading her way.

"Down, girl," Sal got out before the man got close enough to hear them.

"Detective Lawson, I'm Harmon Rabb. We spoke this morning," Harm said to the woman whose cheeks were flushed as if she were embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, the uniform surprised me. You didn't mention that you were in the military when we spoke this morning," Margie said, acknowledging her slightly red cheeks, but giving a more innocent excuse than the truth.

"Then allow me to do a more formal introduction. I'm Navy Captain Harmon Rabb, Jr. with the JAG Corps and currently assigned to the Secretary of the Navy's office at the Pentagon," Harm stated, extending his hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Captain Rabb. I'm Detective Margaret Lawson, but you can call me Margie," she said, reaching to shake the man's hand.

Margie heard a cough and realized that her partner thought that she was excluding him and making a fool of herself to boot.

"This is my partner, Salvador Bellini," Margie told Harm as she released his hand, but was unable or unwilling to break eye contact. The man had the most gorgeous eyes that she'd ever seen.

"Everyone calls me Sal," he said, gripping Harm's hand for a firm handshake.

With introductions done, Harm was ready to get down to business.

"Detectives..." Harm began, speaking to both Margie and Sal. "...have you been able to get the case information on the note that was sent to me?"

"We did. The boys in the crime lab haven't finished with the note, but we obtained a copy of the report you filed. We've read the report, but we'd like to go over the information with you again...if you don't mind," Margie stated flirtatiously.

"I'm available now if you are, though I have to pick up my kids later from school."

**PARKING LOT**

**THOMAS JEFFERSON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL**

**MINUTES BEFORE THE END OF THE DAY **

Harm didn't have enough time after speaking with the detectives to be able to make another stop before time to pick up his children. However, he arrived at the school a couple of minutes early, so he did have time to make a phone call.

Harm pulled his cellphone from his pocket.

When Detective Lawson had asked him if he had any enemies, Harm had mentally run through the hundreds, maybe even thousands of cases that he'd handled over the years, but none had come to mind as having received a sentence worthy of seeking revenge now. In fact, he could think of only a couple of cases where he'd been threatened at the time of the trial.

One case that had come to mind was the case involving Petty Officer Wainwright whose case he'd helped Professor Montes and her law student reopen, and the conviction had been overturned.

The Senator had been none too pleased with his cross examination and had threatened him, but more his career, he believed, than his life.

Harm knew of only two people who might go to such lengths to get to him.

One was the now deceased Sadik Fahd and the other was Clark Palmer, who should still be in Leavenworth, but he'd paid or blackmailed someone to substitute for him before and had come after him. There was also the possibility that he was pulling the strings from inside his jail cell.

Harm had to know if Palmer was where he was supposed to be and dialed a number that he'd hoped that he'd never have to call again...Agent Clayton Webb.

After the fiasco in Paraguay and Webb's subsequent romantic pursuit of Mac, as well as a couple of times since he and Mac had become a couple that Webb had managed to weasel his way into their lives, he preferred to let the fact that he'd once counted Webb among his friends be a memory.

As the call connection was made, Harm wondered why he'd even kept Webb's number in his phone.

Maybe it was for a time like this, he decided. Since he took a threat to his family very seriously, he'd call his best friend, his worst enemy or anyone in between if he felt that they could help him protect them.

The phone rang only twice before it went to voicemail.

Harm didn't want to leave a message, but he needed to know as soon as possible if Clark Palmer was still securely locked away.

"Webb, this is Rabb. I know that you probably aren't inclined to do me any favors, but I need to know if Clark Palmer, the real one, is still behind bars. If he isn't, Mac could be in danger. Give me a call. Bye."

Harm closed his phone and hoped that the spook would do as he requested, even if it was only for the sake of Mac's safety.

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**SAME TIME**

Clayton Webb sauntered into the bullpen.

He'd brought the detectives a name.

"Detectives," Webb greeted as he closed in on their desks. "I'm glad that you're both here. I have a name for you."

"Just one?" Sal huffed. "You're going to try to tell us that he had only one patient whose last name started with H and, let me guess, you didn't even look for the names starting with D."

Sal's sarcasm was obvious as he spoke, and Webb knew that this detective didn't like being spoon fed tiny morsels of information. He was the kind who liked to have a lot of information and sift through it himself to find answers.

Wishing to offer some kind of background to pacify the gritty detective, Webb responded to Sal. "You told me that the client's last name began with H and that the patient was male. Knowing those two facts resulted in only three names. I conducted a preliminary check and found that one of them has been in the hospital for almost a month and one has been under surveillance and wasn't at the doctor's office on the day in question. That left one man unaccounted for, and his name is James Holt.

"Do you have any background on this James Holt?"

"Not much, other than he also fits your PTSD profile and that he was, at least until the incident in the desert, a presidential campaign aide," Webb answered.

"What incident in the desert?" Margie asked.

Webb's cellphone rang, and Margie left the question hanging until after the phone had rung a second time and Webb had made no move to retrieve the device from his pocket.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Margie asked.

"I'll call them back," Webb replied before answering the still lingering question. "You probably saw it on the news. A few months ago, a convoy carrying a mix of politicians, military and the media who were on a diplomatic tour were ambushed in Iraq. Nine survivors were stranded for several days," Webb said before he was cut off.

"I remember seeing that...the news said that a naval officer traveling with them kept them alive until they were found," Sal interrupted, recalling what he remembered from the news stories.

As Sal spoke, another reason why Margie hadn't been able to take her eyes off the Navy captain who'd visited them earlier clicked in her mind.

He'd looked familiar, but she hadn't been able to place his face.

Now she knew that she'd seen his face on the news.

"That's the one, and that sailor's name is Harmon Rabb," Webb said with a smirk.

The way that Webb had spat out the name made Margie curious. She hadn't planned to clue in Mr. Webb about their visitor, but the way that he'd said his name made her think that he might have some first hand knowledge of the naval officer that might provide some information that would take her weeks to uncover.

"That wouldn't be Captain Harmon Rabb, would it?" Margie asked innocently.

"Yes, but how did you know that?" Webb inquired defensively.

"He was here just a while ago -"

"About this case? How is this case any of his business?" Webb asked, cutting Margie off.

Margie sensed definite animosity in Webb's tone.

"He received a threatening note at his home through the mail yesterday that was cut and pasted on a piece of the doctor's missing letterhead," Margie said flatly.

"You start working on the Holt lead. I'll make some calls and let you know if Rabb was one of the doctor's patients, too." Webb barely had the words out of his mouth before he spun around, leaving the detectives without another word.

**RABB HOME**

**1522**

The doorbell rang and, given recent events, Mac didn't want anyone else to answer the door. Although, given her current condition, Mac wasn't sure that she really wanted to answer the door either.

However, she breathed a sigh of relief when a check of the peephole revealed that she knew the person on the other side.

Mac opened the door.

"Hello," she said coolly.

"We need to talk, Sarah ... privately."

Mac nodded and led the man through the living room and out onto the deck.

Once the door had been slid closed behind them, Mac stated, "This is as private as it gets around here. What's on your mind?"

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her since she'd opened the door, and he knew that she was all too aware that he was staring at her.

"I'm surprised to see you, and I can't imagine that we'd have anything to talk about since you can see that I'm not in mission-ready condition at the moment," Mac stated, lightly caressing her stomach and feeling a little uncomfortable under his constant gaze.

"Is Rabb here?" he asked.

"He's picking up two of our children from school. He should be here in a few minutes," Mac answered.

"I'm sorry for staring, Sarah, but you're more beautiful than ever...real pregnancy certainly agrees with you."

"Thank you, Clay," Mac replied, her cheeks flushing slightly.

It was nice to hear a compliment about her looks when she felt like a beached whale, even if said compliment had come from a man in whom she had no interest.

Clayton Webb's feelings for her were bubbling up inside of him.

He was reconciling with Catherine Gayle, the mother of his daughter, but he still wasn't completely over Sarah.

"Are you happy, Sarah? I mean with him."

The question caught Mac by surprise.

Surely that isn't why he'd come here, to find out if she was in love with her husband, especially when she was sure that he knew the answer.

"You knew in Paraguay that I felt that he was the one for me, and my life with him has been even better than I'd ever imagined. I'm very happy with him...with my life now," Mac answered. "Is that why you're here ... to find out if I'm happy?"

"No, I came because I got a call from Rabb."

**INSIDE THE HOUSE**

**SAME TIME**

While Ty and Abigail headed off to their rooms to put away their backpacks before checking on Cocoa, Harm went in search of the other members of his family.

He found his grandmother, Sami and Matthew in the living room.

"Daddy," Sami squealed when she saw him.

"Where's Momma?" Harm asked as he picked up his excited little girl to hug her.

"She's outside talking to a man," Sami stated with obvious disapproval.

"Do we know who this man is?" Harm asked with a raised eyebrow, looking in his grandmother's direction.

"No one introduced us, but I got the impression that Mac knew him from the way she led him through the house to the deck ... to talk privately, I assume," Harm's grandmother answered.

Harm felt a pang of unwarranted jealousy and knew instinctively that the man who was outside with his wife was Clayton Webb.

"Daddy's going to see who our company is," Harm said as he put down his little girl.

Harm took long strides to make it to the back of the house in quick order.

When he opened the sliding door, he heard Webb say, "I came because I got a call from Rabb."

"Yes, I did call you. So why are you talking to Mrs. Rabb?" Harm asked as he stepped out onto the deck.

"I was just making conversation while I waited for you," Webb responded.

Harm suspected that he was lying, but there was no point in arguing about it.

"I'm going to go put my feet up..." Mac said, rubbing her hand over her round belly. "...and let you two talk," Mac finished before kissing her husband on the cheek and whispering in his ear, "Be nice."

Neither man said a word until Mac was inside the house.

"I doubt that it was Palmer who sent the threatening note, but I checked on him anyway..." Webb lifted his hand, showing Harm his palm. "...and yes, I had the warden send me a current photo. Palmer is still safely tucked away in Leavenworth. If he's responsible for the note, he's got someone on the outside doing the leg work for him. So, as a precaution, I've told the warden to fax me the visitor logs and records of any phone calls that he's made in the last six months to check out any contacts that he may have made," Webb informed Harm.

"I didn't mention the note in my message, so how do you know about it?" Harm asked.

"I'm following the murder investigation of Dr. Feldman and, when I checked in with the detectives this afternoon, your name and the note came up. When I got your message, I checked on Palmer, but since they acquired a more likely suspect this afternoon with a link to you, my guess is that Palmer had nothing to do with it."

"Who's this suspect and what link does he have to me?" Harm asked.

Webb hadn't planned to tell him, but figured that, if he didn't tell Harm, he'd simply go and charm the lady detective out of the information in the morning.

"James Holt, the presidential campaign aide who was with you on the diplomatic tour."

"Why would he threaten me or my family?" Harm asked as more of a rhetorical question.

"He may not have had a rational reason. He was seeing a shrink after all, but he was the doc's last patient the night that he was killed, and that makes him the prime suspect."

Harm nodded in agreement to the logic of the theory, but wondered why the one who they'd called 'the quiet man' would seek revenge on him or his family when Harm had had nothing to do with them being stuck in the desert.

"I've got a team setting up right now to keep an eye on things until we're sure that it isn't Palmer," Webb said, breaking through Harm's thoughts.

"Thanks, Clay. I owe you one," Harm said, extending his hand to the man.

"Just keep Sarah...and your family safe, and I'll call it even," Webb said, grasping Harm's hand.

Harm nodded in agreement as the two men shook hands.

A few moments later, the two men parted company, Harm going back inside the house and Clayton Webb leaving the backyard through the gate in the fence.

When Harm walked back into the living room, Mac looked at him questioningly, and Harm just mouthed the word 'later'.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

Harm had been quiet all afternoon, and Mac was glad that it was bedtime because it meant that she had time alone with him to find out what he'd learned today.

She was sitting in bed, resting against pillows that were propped against the headboard, waiting for him to come into the room.

When the door opened, she waited to see what he'd say to her.

He said nothing.

He just went into the bathroom and stripped down to his boxers before returning to the room and making his way to their bed.

Mac waited for him to get into bed before she said anything.

"Harm, what did you find out today about the doctor's murder?"

"Not much," Harm answered, flipping the covers up over himself.

"Harm..." Mac said in a scolding tone.

Harm turned in order to face his wife and be in a comfortable position.

"You probably got as much from the news articles that you've been finding on the internet as I got from the detectives today."

"Then why did you call Clay?"

The moment the question was out of her mouth, she worried that her use of a shortened form of his first name would illicit a jealous response from Harm.

"I didn't call him to come over to see you - that's for sure," Harm scoffed.

"Harm, I love _you_."

Harm reached over and took Mac's hand.

"I know, but the fact that he's still in love with you bothers me a little."

"Even if he is still in love with me, you have no cause for concern. My whole heart belongs to you," Mac said with a warm, reassuring smile.

"And I intend to hold on to it forever," Harm stated before lifting her hand to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of it.

After holding each other in a gaze reminiscent of two star-crossed lovers for several moments, Mac broke the silence.

"You have my heart, but don't think that it lets you off the hook. Start talking about what you found out from the police," Mac said firmly, but with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Harm smiled.

His wife hadn't taken long to learn how to nudge him in the direction in which she wanted him to go.

"The doctor was killed in his office on Thursday evening. His secretary listed a bronze statue as a missing item, but the police found it in the bathroom trash can. Since the cause of death was several blows to the head, and the crime lab found blood and hair that matched the type and color of the victim's, it's probably the murder weapon, but they aren't saying that with a hundred percent certainty yet. They're waiting for the DNA results to verify that it is indeed the victim's."

"Any fingerprints on the statue?" Mac asked.

"Only two that could be lifted for a match. One matched the cleaning lady and the other was the victim's," Harm said, answering her question before giving her more of the facts that he'd learned from his visit to the police station. "Along with the statue, the secretary said that a stack of magazines, his letterhead stationary and a prescription pad were also missing."

"Taken to make it seem like a robbery," Mac interjected into the conversation.

"Exactly what the detectives believe or believed. I don't know if they still think that after they found out that we received a note on the stationary...and that's about it as far as what I learned from the detectives on the case."

"Harm, nothing you've said explains why you called Webb," Mac said, probing for the cause of Webb's visit.

Harm didn't want to tell her what concern had caused him to call Webb, but he also knew that Mac wasn't going to stop asking questions until she knew the answer.

"When the detectives asked me if I had any enemies, I couldn't think of any cases over the years that might have resulted in someone willing to kill someone I loved in order to get to me, but there was one person -"

"You think it's Palmer!" Mac gasped, sounding panicked.

"Palmer considers murder an art form, and I don't think that bashing in someone's skull fits that category, but I had to be sure. So I called Webb to ask him to make sure that Palmer was still locked up. I didn't know that Webb would seize it as an opportunity to show up here to see you."

"Is Palmer still in Leavenworth?" Mac asked.

"Yes, and Webb has requested his contact records to make sure that he hasn't made contact with someone who might be working for him, but until we're certain, he's put a team outside the house to keep an eye on you and the children."

"I wonder if they'll give us the gossip on our new neighbor while they're here," Mac said teasingly.

"What new neighbor?" Harm asked.

"Milly from next door came over today and told us that the house across the street from her that's been empty for almost a year had a small moving van outside of it today. She recruited your grandmother to go with her to take some baked goodies to greet the new neighbor this weekend."

"And you'd like to use American tax dollars to get the lowdown on them before Milly does?" Harm inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Just once, it might be nice to be able to tell Milly something first..." Mac replied with a grin. "...but don't worry, I won't use the CIA for such a petty cause."

"Good. Now let's get some sleep," Harm said, grinning and shaking his head at his wife.

Harm kissed her soundly before they exchanged good nights and settled down to sleep.


	99. Chapter 99

**PART SIX**

**FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**0535**

The alarm had just gone off, and Harm had pressed the snooze button and rolled back into his comfortable position.

He didn't want to get out of bed.

'I'm too tired to get up. Skipping today's morning exercise won't hurt. I can make it up by doing today's exercise on Sunday, a day that I usually take off,' he thought as he drifted back to sleep.

Harm's fatigue stemmed from the fact that he'd upset his wife last night at bedtime, and she'd rolled away from him in angry protest, which had resulted in him not being able to sleep in his customary position of being spooned up behind her.

********FLASHBACK TO NIGHT BEFORE********

In bed and embraced in a hug before kissing good night, Harm thought that it was the right time to ask Mac about something that had been haunting him for weeks.

"Mac, I want to talk to you about something," Harm stated.

Her thoughts jumping to the last topic that Harm had wanted to openly discuss like this caused her features to take on a serious expression.

Mac pulled out of the embrace far enough to look Harm in the eye before she asked, "Have you made a decision about retiring?"

"No, I'm still thinking that one over. Maybe it would help me decide if I listed the pros and cons out loud to you. Maybe we can do that another time ... maybe tomorrow. Tonight, I want to talk to you about our anniversary."

"Okay." Mac said, acknowledging that she understood the topic that they were going to discuss, though she wasn't sure what there was to discuss about it.

"I know that it isn't very romantic to ask, but I simply can't think of anything to do this year except to send you flowers and take you to dinner, but that just seems too ordinary for how much I love you. So, I'm just going to ask what you'd like to do or feel up to doing for our anniversary."

"Dinner sounds fine...but some place that serves a mean steak," Mac said with a soft smile and a teasing tone.

Dinner was fine with her.

She was feeling every bit the seven months pregnant that she was and she couldn't see herself doing anything that was too physically demanding, like dancing.

Though if pushed to admit it, she was a little disappointed that she already knew what they were going to do. She'd been looking forward to being surprised, even if that surprise had turned out to be nothing more than having dinner together.

Harm let out of sigh of relief that she was okay with just having dinner with him before he kissed her softly on the lips.

As they were lying down, Harm said, "When I got orders back to this coast, I'd planned on taking you to the Bahamas for a second honeymoon, but since Valentine's Day came before our anniversary, now you're just too pregnant to take on a honeymoon."

Mac's eyes got wide, and Harm could see that he'd said the wrong thing, but what exactly he'd said to upset her was the question bouncing around in his brain.

"Well, you don't have to take me to dinner, either. Maybe I'm too pregnant to eat, too," Mac huffed as she rolled over, turning her back to him.

It was the position that she usually slept in, but Harm knew from the way that she'd rolled there that he wasn't welcome to join her without explaining himself.

"Mac, I didn't mean too pregnant as in I didn't want to be seen with you or that -"

"I don't think that there is a good interpretation of 'too pregnant,' Harm, so just go to sleep, and let's forget you said it," Mac said angrily, cutting him off.

********END OF FLASHBACK********

Unwelcome in his usual spot behind her, Harm had spent most of the night in sleepless contemplation of how a simple conversation had gone so wrong so quickly.

It was only after she'd been asleep for several hours that he'd been able to successfully position himself behind her with his arm around her, splaying his hand over their baby in order to get the few hours of sleep that he'd finally gotten.

**0547**

Mac had hoped to sleep a little longer, but her baby girl was pushing on her bladder, and she had to get up.

Mac slipped out of bed and padded her way to the bathroom, rubbing her stomach and whispering to the baby, "0547, it's almost time to get up anyway."

Mac returned to the bedroom a few moments later to find her husband still asleep.

Mac looked at the alarm clock to make sure that the alarm had been turned on last night.

For Harm to hit the snooze button once wouldn't have caused her to give it any thought, but for him to hit the button twice... Then she remembered their spat the night before and felt a little guilty.

"Let's let Daddy sleep a little longer this morning, baby," Mac whispered to their unborn child as she turned off the alarm. "We'll wake him after Momma has showered and dressed so that he doesn't miss breakfast."

**0555**

'It isn't unusual at this point in her pregnancy for Mac to have to slip from bed to go use the bathroom, but she should have been back by now,' drifted through Harm's sleep-deprived mind.

The thought that something was wrong came through, and Harm sprang out of bed, suddenly wide awake as he sprinted for the bathroom to check on his wife.

"Mac, are you okay?" Harm asked over the sound of running water as he entered the bathroom.

"Yes, I'm just taking a shower. I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," Harm said before getting what he thought was a brilliant idea.

A moment later, he opened the shower door.

Mac started to try to cover herself, using her arms and the washcloth that she had in her hand.

"I'm sure that I'm too pregnant, too fat for you to be in here, so get out!" Mac said in an angry and embarrassed fluster as Harm stepped into the shower with her.

"You're still mad at me," Harm replied in response to her reaction to his joining her, but he didn't retreat. Instead, he moved closer and reached for her, but Mac stepped back, avoiding his touch.

"I mis-spoke," he began, causing a visible spark in her eyes.

He had her attention, and he internally patted himself on the back for learning from past mistakes by not having said that she'd misunderstood.

"The phrase I used...too pregnant...had a negative connotation that I didn't consider before I said it." He reached for her, and she didn't back away this time, but allowed him to put his hands on her upper arms.

"What I should've said is that you're too close to the end of your pregnancy for me to feel comfortable with taking you too far from the doctor and hospital that we trust."

Mac was smiling when he finished, and she turned to one side, which allowed her to step closer to him and lean her head against his chest.

Harm responded by wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tightly as he dared against him, glad that an unhappy wife was no longer among his worries.

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**PENTAGON**

**0920**

Harm tended to be a creature of habit, and today was no exception.

He arrived at the office and checked in with his two remaining staff members before making his way to see his boss' secretary to make sure that the SecNav hadn't scheduled some last minute meeting that required his presence. His next stop was to pour himself a cup of coffee and pick up his phone messages before entering his office.

Now settled into his chair, it was time to officially begin his work day, and the first order of business was to look over his messages.

Today, he had a three, which surprised him. He usually had no more than two and often had none.

The first message was from Detective Lawson.

The second was from Chuck Hanson, the reporter.

The third was a surprise. It was from James Holt, the presidential aide who Harm had learned was the prime suspect in the murder of Dr. Feldman.

Before Harm could dial anyone's number, his cellphone rang.

Even though Mac still had eight weeks left, Harm had been leaving his phone out on his desk since Mac's appointment last week when they'd been told that, though the doctor didn't think that Mac was in danger of going into labor soon, the baby had dropped in preparation and had suggested that Mac wasn't going to make it to her due date.

After lifting his phone and checking the caller ID, Harm determined that returning the other calls would have to wait.

"Webb, what news do you have?" Harm asked.

"We've finished the review of Palmer's logs and can find nothing to suggest that he's been up to his old tricks. So, I'll be pulling the team from your house later today, but I doubt that you'll have any problems now because, if you haven't heard already, they arrested James Holt yesterday for the murder of Robert Feldman. Holt would be an idiot to make a move on you now."

"Thanks, Webb. I appreciate your help."

"If you ever need something like this again, let me know...and congratulations, Rabb."

"Congratulations on what?" Harm asked.

"Rumor has it that you're on a short list of contenders to become the next Judge Advocate General," Webb said before he disconnected the call.

Harm sat there, gaping at the phone still in his hand.

Webb had to be wrong.

Surely the SecNav would have said something to him if it were true. After all, he worked for the SecNav. His office was just down the hall.

Harm sat there in silence for a while longer, mulling over the news that Webb had dropped on him like a bomb. Then he started to laugh out loud.

Webb was yanking his chain. That was the only logical explanation.

After he'd composed himself, Harm knew that his next call needed to be to Mac.

She needed to know that the security detail was being pulled from their home.

Of course, while he was on the phone with Mac, he couldn't resist telling her what Webb had said about him being in the running to be the next JAG. He thought that she'd get a laugh out of it, but when she reminded him that Clayton really didn't have a sense of humor and wasn't the type to play practical jokes, Harm wondered if it really could be true.

Harm decided that he needed to talk with the SecNav to see if the 'rumor' was true, but if it was, he couldn't figure out why the SecNav wouldn't have said something to him about it. However, he also knew that he wouldn't be able to see him today because, when he'd asked the SecNav's secretary if there were any meetings that he needed to attend, she'd told him that the SecNav was going to be in meetings on the Hill all day.

Once Harm had ended his call home, he turned his attention back to his phone messages.

Harm figured that Detective Lawson had called to inform him of Holt's arrest and that Chuck Hanson had called to get a quote for a story on it. Since Harm had no comment to make on the arrest, he saw no reason to call Hanson.

Harm called Detective Lawson, even though he was pretty sure that she'd called to inform of him of the arrest that they'd made of which he was already aware via Webb.

While on the phone with Detective Lawson, Harm's eyes kept finding their way to the pink message form with James Holt's name on it.

The message was dated with today's date and time stamped at 9 AM, which meant that he must be out on bail already.

Why had Holt called him? Was it to threaten him directly because of his arrest?

Detective Lawson had called to inform Harm of the arrest that they'd made and to apologize that the DA hadn't elected to charge Holt with anything in regard to the note that had been sent to him at this time since they felt that the murder case was much more solid and that Holt's conviction would keep him off the streets and thus prevent any harm from befalling his family.

By the time that Harm had completed his call to Detective Lawson, he'd come to the conclusion that there was only one way to find out what James Holt wanted, and that was to return his call.

Harm dialed the number written on the message.

When the call was connected, the automated switchboard asked for the room number or extension, and Harm entered the number listed on the message.

After one ring, a man answered the phone.

"Hello."

"Is this James Holt?"

"Yes," he replied reluctantly, given that the last time that he'd answered that question had been yesterday afternoon when two Virginia detectives had shown up at his door and, once he'd confirmed his identity, he'd been placed under arrest.

"This is Captain Rabb. I'm returning your call."

"I wasn't sure if you'd call me back, but I'm glad that you did."

"I was hesitant to call, especially since I thought that you might not be available since you were arrested yesterday."

"The family attorney bailed me out," Holt offered in explanation.

"Why did you call me?" Harm asked, bringing the conversation to the heart of the matter.

"I'd like to meet with you to discuss taking my case."

"I'm sure that your family attorney would be happy to represent you," Harm said flatly.

"I'm sure that he would, but I don't think that would be in my best interest...or in yours. I did _not_ kill doctor Feldman and I didn't threaten your family, so that means that your family could still be in danger. We could meet for lunch in a busy, public place if that would make you more comfortable."

Holt had Harm with one line, 'your family could still be in danger.' He had to meet with him, hear him out to determine if he thought that he was covering his tracks or really not guilty.

"I have a stop to make when I leave the office for lunch, but I could meet you at 1215 at Benzinger's."

"Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you there."

Harm ended the call with James Holt, wondering if he was walking into a trap, but knowing that he had to go meet with the man and hear what he had to say.

**BENZINGER'S**

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**1215**

After making a stop to have flowers delivered to his wife, Harm entered Benzinger's, looking for 'the quiet man'.

It didn't take long for James Holt to spot the tall man in uniform and stand to wave him over to his table.

Harm walked over to him, and Holt extended his hand, but Harm didn't take it. He still wasn't sure that meeting with this man was a good idea and he intended to keep up his guard.

Harm slipped into the booth and waited for Holt to retake his seat before saying a word.

When Holt was sitting across from him, Harm got right to the point. Locking his eyes on Holt's face, he said, "If I correctly understood the conversation that we had earlier, you want me to defend you against a murder charge."

"You understood correctly," Holt replied softly.

"You have fifteen minutes to tell me why you'd want me to represent you and to convince me of why I should."

True to his word, Harm ordered nothing and held their meeting to fifteen minutes, but to Holt's credit, he'd been able to get Harm to agree to look over the documents that the prosecution had given to the family attorney and use the weekend to consider taking his case.

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**1435**

The doorbell rang, and Mac made her way to the door.

A look out the peephole revealed a delivery man at the door, carrying flowers.

Mac opened the door cautiously. "May I help you?"

"I have a delivery for Mrs. Harmon Rabb," the young man said.

"That's me," Mac said happily.

Mac took the flowers and saw to it that the young man got a tip before she closed the door and eagerly pulled the card from the bouquet.

The card read: These flowers come with a request for you to join me for dinner at a restaurant of your choice on Wednesday evening. Love, Harm.

The simple request from her husband made Mac feel giddy, and she headed to the kitchen for a vase in which to display her flowers.

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**SAME TIME**

From his living room window, he had a good view of the Rabb home, so when the van pulled up outside, he saw it, but he couldn't make out the words on the side of it.

He got up from his chair to get a closer look.

The disguise that he'd come up with that made him look much older than his real age was perfect, but he hated the adhesive that held the gray beard and mustache in place on his face. It made his face itch, but he couldn't risk having someone see him through the window or answer the door without it.

That had almost happened over the past weekend when he'd taken it off for a few hours to give his face a break. Two of his neighbors, Milly and Sarah, had come to bring him some baked goodies to welcome him to the neighborhood.

Though it had been a close call, it had been a wonderful gift having Sarah Rabb, his current target, come to him without him having to come up with a plan for an "accidental" meeting.

He looked out the window and could easily read 'Garden Florist' on the side of the van outside the Rabb home.

'Why didn't I think of that before?' he wondered while rubbing his cheek, trying to scratch the itch that his fake beard caused.

Sending a little something extra with a bouquet of flowers would be the perfect way to deliver his next blow.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1525**

Mac was waiting just inside the door for her husband and their children to come in from the garage after Harm had picked them up from school.

Mac greeted Ty and then Abigail before Harm entered the house carrying his briefcase, and when he did, Mac rushed up to him and hugged him.

"To what do I owe this special welcome?" Harm asked when he'd regained his equilibrium.

"I wanted to ask if you'd learned anything more about the possibility of becoming the next JAG," Mac offered, trying not to act too excited about receiving the invitation that he'd sent with the flowers.

"No," Harm answered as he wrapped his free arm around her. "The SecNav was out of the office all day in meetings on Capitol Hill. I'll see what I can find out on Monday."

"Well, I'm sure that you'd be a wonderful JAG, but whether you're the next JAG or not, I'd be delighted to go to dinner with you on Wednesday evening. In fact, I've already made reservations at one of my favorite places," Mac said with a smile before pressing her lips to his.

Harm used his arm that was already around her to pull her to him just a little bit closer as he returned her kiss.

The kiss was more than their usual greeting, but it was a needed intimate moment between the two of them to express that all was forgiven regarding their earlier dispute.

When they broke their kiss, Harm said, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Mac echoed

"All this love talk around here could make a girl with no date this weekend feel badly about coming home for the weekend," Mattie said with a chuckle.

"Hi, Mattie," Harm said, dropping his arm from around his wife and moving towards his daughter.

Mac took Harm's briefcase to free his arms to hug her, saying, "I'll put this on your desk for you."

"No, hold onto it for a minute. There's something in it that I want to show you later, so I'll take it to our bedroom when I go there to change."

"Okay," Mac replied.

"Now, what were you saying about all the love talk around here?" Harm asked as he greeted his daughter with a hug.

"Well, Gee Gee wasn't talking about love, but she got a call from a man about half an hour ago and she has a date tomorrow night."

"She has a date?" Harm asked, sounding a little shocked.

"Yeah, she says that he's a charming man who moved in across the street from Miss Milly."

Harm looked at his wife. "Have you met this man who's taking out my grandmother?"

"No, I haven't, but your grandmother's gone over twice this week to have tea with him. She seems to be quite taken with him," Mac replied with a grin.

"A man chasing after my grandmother... I'm not sure that I like the sound of that," Harm said, sounding protective. "I think I'll go change and then see what my grandmother knows about this man who she has a date with."

Mattie and Mac were smiling at each other, trying not to laugh out loud at Harm's obvious protectiveness of his grandmother.

Mac found that she had to bite her lip to prevent a chuckle from escaping when he turned to take his briefcase from her.

Once he was out of the room, Mattie asked Mac, "Is he like this after I tell him that I have a date?"

"When it's you, he's worse," Mac replied with a loving smile.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

Mac had taken a short trip into the kitchen for another small slice of the chocolate cake that Harm's grandmother had made for dessert, so she was expecting Harm to be in their room waiting for her, but she didn't expect him to be still dressed and have his briefcase open and papers from a file strewn over the bed.

"Have you moved your office in here?" Mac asked casually.

"I guess I have, temporarily...just for tonight. There's something that I want to show you so that we can discuss it," Harm replied.

Remembering his comment after he got home, Mac asked, "Is this the same something that you mentioned when you got home with the children?

"Yes. Because of what this case involves, I need to know, if I take it, that you're okay with it."

"What case is it?" Mac asked as she sat down on the bed.

Harm handed her a piece of paper.

He knew that she could read the legal form, but it would take her a moment to read through the officially filed document of the charge.

Plus, he thought that she might have a hard time believing what case he was considering taking, so he gave her a verbal summary as confirmation that she wasn't misreading the information.

"I'd be representing James Holt, who's been charged with the murder of Dr. Robert Feldman." Seeing the look on her face, Harm quickly added, "...if I take the case."

Mac took in a deep breath and let it out.

"Don't you think that there'd be a conflict of interest in taking his case since the police believe that the doctor's killer is also the one who wrote the note that threatened us?"

"They aren't charging him with threatening us, so we aren't listed as a victim."

Mac cut him off. "So, legally, there is no conflict, but still -"

It was Harm's turn to cut her off.

"I addressed that with Holt, and he's willing to sign a waiver to the effect that he's aware that I've reported a crime that the authorities believe is linked to the Feldman murder and thus is aware of a potential conflict of interest and, knowing this information, he still wants me to represent him."

"Do you see anything in what you've got here that makes you think that he's innocent?" Mac asked.

"It isn't a full discovery package, no crime scene photos or other evidence, but from the reports I have, I find a couple of things that seem odd. For instance..." Harm handed her another piece of paper. "...a box with three magazines, scissors, the doctor's prescription pad and a few sheets of the letterhead and two envelopes were found in a box in his garage. According to the list of missing items, 'a stack of magazines' was taken, which could mean that someone placed only part of the stolen items there to implicate Holt."

"It could also mean that he divided the magazines and stationary to store them in more than one location. That way, if his stash at home was found, he'd still have some for use in future notes."

"It could, but I find it odd that the report says that the box containing the evidence was found in plain view, sitting on top of a work bench. It also seems strange that they'd find the magazines at his home since Holt says that he hasn't been living there for several weeks, yet they found nothing in his hotel room."

Mac put the papers down on the bed that Harm had handed her and looked her husband in the eye.

"I want to talk to him," Mac said firmly.

"What? Why?" Harm asked.

"No one is more aware of the odd bonds that can be formed in the 'heat of battle,' so to speak, than I do, and I don't want you to go out on a limb for this guy because you feel some sort of obligation to him based on your shared experience in the desert. I'll look over what you've got here, but I want to talk to him face-to-face before I can be on board with you representing him." Mac paused for a moment before adding, "Before you start worrying about my safety, remember that I'm still listed as Sarah MacKenzie with the Bar Association, so when you introduce us, if he knows that I'm your wife, it's because he's been checking up on you."

Harm hated it when she had a good answer for a question that he hadn't even yet asked.

"When do you want to meet with him?" Harm asked.

"Mattie asked if she could take the kids to the park in the morning. She also said that she'd see that they got lunch and Abigail got to her piano lesson, and I agreed. I'm sure that, if I call Harriet in the morning, we could drop Matthew off there, and Mattie could bring him home when she brings everyone else home so that your grandmother has plenty of time to get ready for her big date, and it would leave me free to meet with your potential client tomorrow."

"If Harriet agrees when you call her in the morning, I'll call Holt and arrange for a meeting." Harm kissed his wife. "I'll let you look over what we have without any kibitzing from me and I'll go brush my teeth and get ready for bed," Harm said before kissing Mac once more and standing to go into the bathroom.

**A FEW MINUTES LATER**

Harm came out of the bathroom and found his wife engrossed in the reports that he had on the case.

"What do you think?" Harm asked.

"About what?" Mac asked absentmindedly.

"About the case," Harm replied.

"From the reports that you have here, I agree with your assessment. The prosecution's case rests with the fact that items taken from the doctor's office the night that he was murdered were found in his garage and that he was the last patient who the doctor saw that night, but that isn't exactly the makings of an open and shut case."

"You miss it, don't you?"

"Miss what?" Mac asked, looking up over the edge of the report that she was reviewing for the second time.

"Working cases," Harm said as he sat on the bed.

"I miss it, but..." She placed her hand on her bulging stomach. "...this job is pretty important, too." Mac started to end her comments there, but the look on her husband's face had her feeling that she needed to say more. "Harm, just because I miss the work doesn't mean that I'm unhappy," Mac said reassuringly.

Harm's worried look softened, and he leaned over and whispered, "I'm glad to hear it because I've never been happier."

Their lips came together in a warm kiss.

"I'm sorry that it's become uncomfortable for me. I know that you miss us making love, so I'm sorry that we have to stop with a kiss," Mac said when their lips parted.

Harm put his hand on Mac's stomach.

"I do miss being with you, but that doesn't mean that I'm unhappy," Harm replied, echoing Mac's earlier words. "Besides, I'd do anything for you and my baby girl."

"You haven't come up with a name yet?" Mac questioned while gathering the reports that she'd been reading into an orderly stack and, in the process, clearing the bed so that they could go to sleep.

"I thought of naming her Sarah Elizabeth, but I had to rule that out because my grandmother calls you Sarah, and that might lead to some confusion around here. Once I ruled that one out, I started making a list like we did when we found out that we were going to have a boy," Harm replied.

"What are some of the names that you have on the list?" Mac asked as she handed over the case file that she'd reassembled.

Harm took the proffered file and shoved it into his briefcase before he pulled out a legal pad and handed it over to Mac while he closed his briefcase.

He was setting his briefcase on the floor near the bed when Mac spoke.

"Amanda, Victoria, Emily, Faith, Elizabeth, Beverly, Mary, Betty ..." Mac continued to read the list, about twenty names in all as Harm got under the covers.

"Any of the names strike a cord with you?" Harm asked as Mac put the pad down on her night stand.

"No, but I'll sleep on it and let you know if something comes to me," Mac replied as she joined Harm under the covers.

After a quick kiss good night, Harm and Mac assumed their usual spooned position and fell asleep.


	100. Chapter 100

**PART SEVEN **

**SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 2008**

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**0542**

Harm usually slept an extra thirty minutes on the weekends, but this morning the sensation that someone was watching him forced his eyes to open before the alarm went off.

"Are you okay?" Harm asked sleepily as his eyes brought his wife's face into clear focus.

Mac hadn't meant to wake him, but she should've anticipated that her intense staring at him for the last seventeen minutes would result in her doing exactly that.

"I'm fine. I was just sitting here thinking about us...no, you...no, about me, really."

Given the way that she'd rambled, Harm was concerned about what her early morning reflections had been, so he sat up and reached for her hand.

Taking her hand in his, he hoped that he was prepared for what she was going to say and that he'd be able to prevent a conflict like the one that they'd had the other night.

"What about me? Did I do something else to upset you?"

Mac smiled, disengaging his fear that she was upset with him.

"You haven't done anything, but I don't know that I can say the same thing about myself," Mac said sadly.

"What are you talking about?" Harm inquired.

"I was thinking about our spat the other night. I was being too sensitive. It's just that I've already gained five more pounds than I did with Matthew and I still have eight weeks to go until my due date."

It was Harm's turn to smile. It didn't come with flowers, but Mac was apologizing for her part in their spat.

"Mac, you barely gained any weight with Matthew, so the fact that you've gained more weight this time isn't surprising when you've had no health related issues with this pregnancy, and I don't care if you've gained four or forty pounds as long as you and the baby are healthy," Harm said sweetly before kissing his wife.

"You're getting good at saying just what I need to hear," Mac said tearfully.

"Why don't you lie back down to see if you can get a little more sleep? I'll wake you when I get back from my run so we can save water by taking a shower together."

"I'd like that," Mac said shyly.

Harm kissed her once more before getting up to dress for his run.

**GARDEN FLORIST**

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**0910**

"Welcome to Garden Florist. How may I help you?" the woman behind the counter said cheerfully to the older, nicely dressed gentleman with his fedora pulled down in front so she couldn't make eye contact with him.

"I'd like to order flowers for delivery," the sharply dressed man with a gray beard and mustache answered.

"Of course," the woman said as she pulled a form from under the counter.

A few moments later, the woman had taken his order for a box containing six long-stemmed red roses and the instructions for their delivery this afternoon.

"Would you like to include a card with her flowers?" the clerk asked.

"I don't know," the gentleman said with his hand in his pocket. "A card wouldn't be necessary if you'd include this small box of chocolates," he said softly, almost shyly as he took a small box of truffles from his pocket. "I know that you sell chocolates here, but these are her favorites."

"It isn't a problem. I'll see that they're delivered with her roses," the clerk said with a big smile, wanting to help the sweet old man.

After collecting cash to pay for the purchase, the clerk asked, "Sir, can I get your name? I mean, if for some reason your flowers aren't deliverable. It doesn't happen often, but once in a while a recipient will refuse delivery. If that should happen, I can put your name on the box and you can pick it up here," the clerk explained.

The man started to say that, if she refused delivery, he wouldn't need them, but remembering that he'd heard on the news that the police had assigned blame to the other man, he offered a kindly smile and replied, "James Holt."

"Thank you, Mr. Holt, and I hope that you have a wonderful day," the woman said sweetly.

Once 'Mr. Holt' had left the florist shop, the clerk sighed. It was so nice to know that, when you got older, there could still be romance in your life.

**LOCAL PARK**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1051**

He'd returned home in time to see the Rabb children getting into a car.

He pulled into the driveway of the house that he'd rented to be close to the Rabb family and watched as the doors closed on the car without Rabb or his wife ever getting into the vehicle.

'The young woman who got into the driver's seat must be Mattie, the unofficial, oldest daughter of the Rabbs, who Sarah told me about over tea earlier this week,' he thought.

Without a watchful parent along, he decided to take the opportunity to follow the car.

As he sat on a park bench, he was pleased that he'd decided to tag along, even if he hadn't been invited to join them.

During their tea times this week, Sarah had told him the names and ages of her great grandchildren. She'd even confided to him the fact that some of them were adopted, but that was all the information that he had on the children. However, sitting here observing them at play was giving him valuable information about their individual personalities.

The oldest was every bit the big sister, keeping the youngest one closer to her, though she didn't let the older ones out of her sight. His impression of the boy, based on watching him go up to another boy to return a ball that had gotten away from him, was that he was a confidant and outgoing young man. The younger girl was energetic. The other little girl, Abigail, if he remembered correctly from his talks with Sarah, appeared to be quiet and reserved, timid even.

He stood to return to his car. He'd seen all that he needed to see.

He planned to put Rabb through hell before he ended his life, and he'd just decided that Abigail would be his next target.

**BENZINGER'S**

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**NOON**

To fill their time while waiting for James Holt, Harm and Mac had placed an order and were enjoying a quiet lunch alone when he arrived at their table.

Harm stood, looking comfortable in his blue jeans and pullover sweater, and extended his hand, which Holt took.

After a firm handshake, the two men turned their attention to the woman sitting at the table.

"This is the other attorney who I told you about -" Harm began.

Unsure that her husband would remember to introduce her by using her maiden name, Mac cut him off. "- Sarah MacKenzie, Mr. Holt."

"I'd say that it's a pleasure to meet you, but given the circumstances..." His voice trailed off.

"I understand. Please have a seat."

By the time James Holt took a seat, the waiter appeared to check on the couple and, seeing the addition to their party, asked if there was anything that he wanted.

James Holt ordered a scotch on the rocks.

Once the waiter had left the table to retrieve the requested drink, James Holt offered an explanation for his liquid lunch order.

"I have a feeling that she's going to be tougher on me than you were, so I thought that I should get something to quiet my nerves."

"I'm sure that all of this hasn't been easy on you, and given that it came on the coattails of what you went through in Iraq...let's just say that I understand," Mac offered with a compassionate look in her eyes that told James Holt that she was being sincere.

James Holt leaned back in his chair. "What's your first question?" he asked.

Her legal pad with her notes and questions was already sitting on the table, but she opted to begin their conversation differently.

"I'll save my questions until after you've told me the story that you told Captain Rabb at your meeting that has him considering being your defense counsel," Mac stated firmly.

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1307**

He'd been busy since he'd arrived home from the park. He'd been working out the details for taking Abigail Rabb and hadn't seen the van from the florist make the delivery of his flowers. However, when he heard the siren, he went to the window and watched an ambulance pull up in front of the Rabb home. His delivery _had_ been made as planned.

**IN THE CAR**

**EN ROUTE TO THE RABB HOME**

**1322**

Harm and Mac were discussing her impressions of James Holt and his case when Mac's cellphone rang.

Mac pulled her phone from her purse and looked at the caller ID.

"It's Mattie," Mac informed Harm before connecting the call.

"Hey, Mattie," Mac began. "Are you ready to throw in the towel and give us back the kids now?" Mac asked jokingly.

"No, I'm not calling about them," Mattie said, her tone so serious that Mac's jovial mood came to an abrupt halt.

"Mattie, what's wrong? Is everyone okay?" Mac asked, trying to remain calm until she knew what exactly she needed to be upset about.

Hearing Mac's question to their daughter had Harm listening intently, hoping that he'd be able to hear Mattie's response through the receiver, but he couldn't hear it.

He did hear Mac ask, "Is she okay?" in a voice drenched with concern.

Harm waited impatiently as he heard Mac ask more questions.

"What hospital?"

Mac received the answer and looked at Harm.

"We need to go to George Washington Hospital right now," Mac told him before telling Mattie, "We're on our way there. We'll call and let you know how she is when we get there and find out."

Harm's knuckles were white because he was gripping the steering wheel so hard, waiting for Mac to tell him which one of their children was ill or had been hurt.

Mac closed her phone and, as if she could read his mind, she said quickly, "It isn't one of the children." Then delivering the answer to what she knew would be his next question, she added, "It's your grandmother."

"_What_?" Harm said so loudly inside the car that it sounded like he was yelling. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "What happened?"

"Mattie doesn't know exactly. She came home with the children after Abigail's piano lesson and went to tell your grandmother that they were home. She found her sitting on the floor in her bedroom. When she asked her why she was on the floor, she said that she'd gotten dizzy and had been so uncoordinated that, when she'd gone to sit down, she'd missed the bed. Mattie said that she'd have just helped her up and into bed, but she looked funny and was having trouble breathing, so she called 9-1-1. Because she had the children with her, the police and paramedics recommended that she not follow them to the hospital, so she called us. She says that she'll stay with the children so that we can go check on your grandmother, but she wants us to call her as soon as we know something about her condition."

The car fell silent for a couple of moments until Mac announced, "I'm going to give Harriet a call to see if she can go by our house to check on Mattie and the children to make sure that they're holding up okay."

Harm's only reaction as his wife started to push numbers on her phone's key pad was to press down on the accelerator a little harder. They needed to get to the hospital to see if his grandmother was all right.

**ACROSS FROM MISS MILLY'S HOUSE**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1715**

It had been almost four hours since the ambulance had pulled away from the Rabb home, and he'd seen no signs of Rabb and his wife.

He hoped that he hadn't killed the aging Sarah Rabb. That hadn't been his intention. The only one who he wanted dead was Rabb. The others were just pawns in his plans to make Rabb suffer before his demise.

He'd seen that Roberts character from the diplomatic tour show up with a woman and some kids. Even though Roberts had left, with the woman and kids there, he couldn't risk going to the house. He didn't want too many people to see him, so he picked up the phone.

He had a date with Sarah this evening. He'd call under the guise of confirming the time to pick her up to find out what they knew about her condition.

The piece of paper that Sarah had written her phone number on was next to the phone. He carefully dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello," Mattie answered.

She was hoping that it was her parents with an update on Gee Gee. She didn't want to waste the extra time with adding the information that the caller had reached the Rabb residence.

"Hello, I'm calling to speak with Sarah Rabb." He spoke softly and with that little crack that made him sound older. It had taken him a couple of weeks, but he'd been able to master the frail sounding voice of an old man.

"She isn't in at the moment. May I take a message?" Mattie said politely, but disappointed that it wasn't her parents.

"No, no message. I was just calling to remind her that I'm picking her up for dinner at six."

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I don't think that she'll be back in time to go to dinner with you this evening." Mattie didn't want to tell him that she was ill.

"She's standing me up?" The old man's voice sounded shaky, and Mattie felt badly for him.

"No, she's been talking about 'stepping out' with you since you called yesterday...it's just ... well, something came up." Mattie paused and took a deep breath.

'This man was someone who was her great grandmother's friend and he lived across the street. He'd probably seen the ambulance at the house,' she thought.

Having regained her composure, Mattie continued. "I guess, since you're dating my great grandma, I should tell you what I know. When I got home with the children today, I found her collapsed on the floor in her room. I had to call for an ambulance, and they took her to the hospital."

"Oh my, what hospital? I should go see her. She shouldn't be there alone." He sounded frantic.

"She isn't alone. My parents are with her."

"How is she doing?" he asked calmly.

"My parents haven't called in a while, but they called when they got to the hospital to tell us that she was conscious and in stable condition. The doctors were running some tests, and they said that they'd call when they knew more."

"Do have them tell her that I called and that I expect a rain check for dinner," he said, sounding like the news had taken the wind out of his sails.

"I'll do that, and I'll have her call you as soon as she can," Mattie said very upbeat, trying to cheer up the old man.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you, dear," the man said before ending his call with the Rabb home.

**GEORGE WASHINGTON HOSPITAL**

**WASHINGTON, DC**

**1830**

Harm and Mac had been dismissed from Sarah's room so that the doctor could talk to his grandmother privately.

As they stood outside her door, Harm discovered that it hadn't been the only reason why they'd been sent into the hall when he saw two people who were familiar to him approaching them.

"Mac, I'd like for you to meet Detectives Lawson and Bellini," Harm said before looking at the detectives. "Dectectives, this is my wife, Sarah Rabb," Harm said, finishing the introductions.

The woman didn't look the age of the victim who they'd been called to interview, but the name was the same.

"Did you say, Sarah Rabb?" Margie asked for clarification.

"I think you're here to speak with the other Sarah Rabb, Harm's grandmother. Our friends call me Mac, so there's no confusion." Mac spoke to what she thought was puzzling the detective. "She's in there with the doctor," she added, pointing towards the door behind them.

Now that with the momentary confusion had been cleared up, Sal spoke.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Rabb. You can call me Sal." Maybe he was being overly friendly, but given what they were here to discuss, he hoped that, if he turned on the charm, it might be possible to keep from upsetting the obviously pregnant Mrs. Rabb too much.

"I have a guess, but to get to it quickly. Why are the two of you here?" Harm asked, not the least bit interested in the small talk that Bellini was starting. If the detectives were here, Harm knew that it wasn't by accident, and he was sure that his wife was also aware that their presence meant that his grandmother didn't simply have some health-related issue that comes with age.

"What has the doctor told you about your grandmother's condition?" Margie asked.

"Not a whole hell of a lot. They've told us that she's in stable condition and that the treatment that they're giving her seems to be working, but that the test results that will confirm what they believe to have happened will take several hours...maybe into tomorrow to verify."

"They've received the results," Margie began. "Your grandmother is a victim of cyanide poisoning. Sal will talk to the two of you while I go in and talk to your grandmother."

Harm nodded in understanding of the job that they had to do, but anger at whoever had targeted him and his family was boiling up inside of him.

After talking with his grandmother, the police wanted to go to the Rabb home to pick up the flowers and candy that she'd mentioned to have them checked to see if they had any traces of cyanide.

Harm and Mac didn't want the police at their home so soon after they'd been there in response to the note that Harm had received through the mail without at least one of them being there to calm the children, if necessary. So, after speaking with his grandmother and getting the detectives to agree to put a uniformed officer outside his grandmother's room while she was in the hospital, Harm and Mac drove home, followed closely by Detectives Lawson and Bellini, who bagged and tagged the roses and what was left of the box of candy as possible evidence.

**MASTER BEDROOM **

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**BEDTIME**

Mac was already in bed when Harm exited the bathroom. She wasn't reading a book, but she did have some papers in her hand.

Harm sat down heavily on the edge of the bed with his back to Mac before he spoke.

"Mac, when my grandmother gets out of the hospital in a couple of days, I want all of you to go to the farm."

"Harm..." Mac said before she reached out to caress his shoulder. "...I talked to your grandmother after she talked to the police...while you were talking to the detectives before we left the hospital. I suggested that she go back to the farm for her safety when she gets out of the hospital, but she wouldn't hear of it. She told me that, if someone is after her grandson and his family, then she wants to be here as 'an extra pair of eyes, even if they don't see perfectly anymore,' I believe were her exact words, and I'm not going up there with the children and leave the two of you here alone. I've been watching your six for many years and I'm not about to stop now when losing you means that I'm not only a widow, but that my children don't have a father."

Harm turned to face his wife. Stalling, hoping that he'd be able to come up with a way to convince her and his grandmother to agree to go away, he asked, "What are you reading?"

"I'm going over the reports and statements that we have on Holt's case again."

"Why? You don't seriously think that I'd represent him after today's attack on my grandmother, do you?"

"Then I'll represent him," Mac informed Harm calmly.

"_What_?" Harm yelled.

"I think he's innocent -"

"Of killing the doctor maybe, but -" Harm said angrily, cutting her off.

"I don't think that he killed the doctor and I don't think that he's responsible for tranquilizing Cocoa, sending the note or poisoning your grandmother," Mac said firmly and calmly, not wanting to fight with him, but she needed to hold her ground on this.

"Present your case, Counselor," Harm said with a scowl on his face as he folded his arms across his chest.

He was angry, but she had his attention.

"For starters, there're the things that you mentioned that seemed odd to you when you read the reports ... then there's the man himself. Tell me, when you met him, I mean for the first time, did anything about his demeanor say killer to you?"

"No. My impression of him was that he's a political yes-man," Harm said, unfolding his arms.

With Harm's demeanor more relaxed now, Mac could continue and know that he was really listening to her.

"Then there's the fact that you called Holt 'the quiet man.' It seems that a man who physically and mentally shut down amid violence wouldn't have the stomach to commit such a violent and bloody crime as the doctor's murder. Another thing that suggests his innocence for me is, when I asked him if he'd allow us to read Dr. Feldman's patient file on him, he quickly agreed. He wouldn't have agreed so readily if he even suspected that it would contain information that he was capable of murder."

"True," Harm agreed before adding, "but what if he isn't responsible for the murder, but he is guilty of terrorizing our family?"

"My gut says that the killer and our personal terrorist are the same person," Mac said.

"Gut feeling, huh? That's some pretty strong evidence," Harm said teasingly as he got into bed.

Mac laughed. Even though she was the recipient of his barb, she was glad that he'd relaxed enough to joke with her.

He pulled Mac into his arms.

"I'll represent him. If you're wrong, I don't want you that close to him."

"I'll help you by doing the leg work and research, but I promise that I won't meet with Holt again."

"Deal," Harm said before pressing his lips to hers.

When their lips parted, Mac yawned.

"I think that we'd better get some sleep because we're going to have a busy day tomorrow, especially now that we have to find some time to go over case strategy," Harm said, sliding down under the covers and giving Mac a loving pat on her rear as she turned on her side so that he could spoon up behind her.


	101. Chapter 101

**PART EIGHT **

**WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2008**

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**PENTAGON**

Harm tapped his pen against the legal pad on his desk, impatiently waiting for someone to pick up his call on the other end.

"Hello," Mac answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Beautiful, how's your morning going?" Harm asked, knowing that his grandmother, whom they'd brought home from the hospital yesterday afternoon, wasn't one to take it easy, which had been the doctor's instructions.

He couldn't see it, but his compliment and interest in her morning made her smile.

"It's been interesting. Your grandmother has been chomping at the bit to go have tea with her beau to apologize for missing their date the other evening, but he hasn't been home, and Sami's just as antsy because she doesn't understand why she has to play inside again today."

Whether it was Holt or some other person, his family needed to keep a low profile. Going out only when necessary and not alone had to be the way things were right now, no matter how they sat with Sami.

As for his grandmother, he knew that no matter what he said, she'd go out and do what she wanted to do. She'd made that clear when he'd suggested that she return to the farm.

"It sounds like you've got your hands full." Harm sighed. "I wish I could get out of here earlier than I'd planned so that I could give you a hand, but the SecNav has decided to come into the office today, and his secretary called me a few minutes ago to tell me that he's requested my presence at 1030."

"If he asked to see you, I'll bet that it has something to do with you being the next JAG," Mac stated excitedly.

"Maybe, but if he doesn't mention it, I'll try to work in a question about the rumor that I've heard."

"You'll call me to let me know what he says." Mac made the statement sound like a question.

"I don't know how long he's set aside to meet with me, so you might have to wait until I get home."

"If you weren't going to be able to tell me what happened at your meeting until you got home, why did you call me now? You could've waited and told me everything when you got home this afternoon," Mac said, sounding a little annoyed.

"Because the SecNav hasn't been in his office, I haven't been able to discuss with him the fact that I've taken on a criminal case outside of my duties here. I'll tell him when I meet with him in a few minutes, but it won't be soon enough. I got a call right after I was summoned to the SecNav's office that the DA has a complete discovery package ready for the defense. I asked them to deliver it to the house instead of bringing it here since the SecNav doesn't yet know that I'm moonlighting."

"Do you want me to go over it when it arrives or do you want to look it over first?" Mac asked.

"If you feel up to it, you can look over the information, but I don't want you to overdo it. I'll go over it tonight. ... Some anniversary this is turning out to be," Harm added with a sigh.

"After the incident with Cocoa, we agreed that continuing with our daily routine was in the best interest of the children, but since the attack on your grandmother, I don't think that's true anymore. That's why I suggested that we cancel going out to dinner tonight, though an evening out for just the two of us would be a welcome change from our routine."

"I hate that I can't take you out for our anniversary because of some lunatic who's after me," Harm said, sounding frustrated and angry.

"Having a crazy person after you is _not_ your fault, Harm. Now get off the phone and focus on your meeting with the SecNav...and make sure that your shoulder boards are straight. The Navy's next Judge Advocate General shouldn't be seen with crooked shoulder boards," Mac said teasingly.

"Mac, there's no evidence that I'm even being considered for Cresswell's job -"

"You'd better get off the phone," Mac said, cutting him off. Your meeting is in nine minutes and thirty-one seconds. Good luck."

Harm decided to give in.

"Thanks," he said with a shoulder shrug that she couldn't see.

**SECRETARY OF THE NAVY'S OFFICE**

**PENTAGON**

**1032**

The first two minutes of his meeting had been the same as any other meeting with the SecNav. He'd been shown into the office and had announced that he was reporting as ordered before the SecNav had told him to relax and have a seat. However, the similarities to other meetings between the two of them had ended there.

"Captain Rabb..." the SecNav began as he took a seat in the chair across from Harm and not the one behind his desk as usual. "...have your ears been burning?" the SecNav asked casually and not in a tone that one would expect from a superior.

"Excuse me, Mr. Secretary?" Harm didn't understand what appeared to be friendly chatter and not a business discussion.

"I asked if your ears have been burning because there's been a lot of talk about you on the Hill in the last few days."

Harm decided to feign ignorance as to why he might be a topic of conversation at the Capitol.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sir, why would I be of interest to anyone on the Hill?"

"I'm sure that you've heard that Major General Cresswell has put in for retirement. You may or may not be aware that he's requested an expedited exit. Due to his personal circumstances, that request is going to be granted and Cresswell will begin terminal leave at the end of this month, thus vacating his position as Judge Advocate General. Your name has come up more than once as his possible replacement."

"I'm honored that I've been considered, Sir."

"I don't think you understand, Captain. On Friday, your name made the short list of four candidates who are still in the running."

As he continued to listen to the SecNav, Harm wondered, 'Was Webb there or did he have the room bugged? How else could he know about my name being on the short list?'

"Normally, I wouldn't discuss the likelihood that the position might be within a candidate's grasp, but since you're working for me at the moment, I'm taking the opportunity to get your feelings on the matter. I also want to ask how you'd propose a transition between yourself and your replacement here before my next meeting on the Hill later this week."

**HARM'S OFFICE**

**PENTAGON**

**1140**

Harm had spent a little over an hour with the SecNav before returning to his office and collapsing into his desk chair.

He scrubbed his hand over his face.

He'd been thinking so much lately about retiring, but with the pinnacle of his career within his grasp, he was more conflicted than ever as to whether retirement was really what he wanted to do at this point in his life.

He'd been standing at this crossroads for a while now, but, according to the time frame that the SecNav had given him, he was running out of time to decide which direction to take.

His phone ringing pulled him from his thoughts.

"Captain Rabb," Harm said into the receiver.

"Captain, this is Margie." Realizing that it sounded too familiar, she quickly added, "Detective Lawson."

"Yes, Margie, what do you have for me?" Harm replied with familiarity, knowing that keeping up a slight flirtation with her was the way to keep her calling him with information that he might not get from another detective.

"I just got the lab report and wanted to let you know that it was definitely the chocolates that were sent to your grandmother that contained the cyanide."

"Where does someone get their hands on cyanide?" Harm asked.

"The lab boys say that the cyanide in the chocolates came from apricot pits, so it may not have been purchased. If someone knew what they were doing, they could extract it themselves. Another option is that it's a component used in drug therapy for cancer. Though it isn't sold in the US, they may have been able to obtain it from Mexico. They use apricot pits in their production of the drug."

"When you interviewed the clerk at the florist shop, were you able to get a lead on who sent the roses and poison chocolates?" Harm asked, trying to keep his anger in check with Margie. She hadn't done anything but be helpful.

"The customer paid cash, so there's no credit card or check information. However, the clerk did ask for his name and the name that he gave her was James Holt. Her description of the man's height and weight are similar to Holt's, but his age doesn't match, and she couldn't identify Holt from a group of photos. With no security cameras in the shop for a possible ID, I'm afraid that we've pretty much hit a deadend on your grandmother's poisoning."

"I appreciate you letting me know about this latest development. If it isn't too much trouble, could you fax me what you have? Maybe if I look over the reports, something will click for me, and I'll be able to think of someone who might be capable of poisoning my grandmother who also fits the description that you got from the clerk at the florist."

"I'll fax it over myself in the next few minutes. If you think of someone, give me a call so that Sal and I can have a talk with them."

"Thanks again, Margie. I do appreciate what you've done," Harm said before they ended their call.

As Harm waited for the fax to finish coming through, it was the name, James Holt, that kept jumping off the page at him.

The defense lawyer in him was thinking that a man wouldn't hire you and then give his real name to the florist when he sent your grandmother toxic chocolates.

However, Harm, the man who desperately needed to protect his family, wondered if it was part of Holt's act of innocence.

Harm left his office with a plan to find out which one it was.

It wasn't a foolproof plan, but he thought that the confrontation would be very telling as far as the man's ability to plan and carry out such heinous acts as tranquilizing a dog and poisoning an old woman.

**STANFORD SUITES**

**ROOM 240**

**ARLINGTON VIRGINIA**

**1310**

Harm pounded on Holt's door.

When Holt opened the door of his hotel room, Harm pushed his way past him, not waiting for an invitation to enter.

"I wasn't expecting you. Do you have news about my case?" Holt asked as he closed the door.

Harm waited to hear the door click closed before he spun around to face Holt.

"I'm here to find out if you're an idiot or an innocent victim of someone's set up," Harm said sternly, his face twisted in an angry scowl while taking a step towards the man.

"I didn't kill Feldman. I told you that," Holt responded nervously as he took a step back, intimidated by not only the level of anger, but by the size of the man in the room with him.

"I'm not talking about Feldman at the moment. I'm talking about tranquilizing my dog and trying to kill my grandmother," Harm spat out, taking another step towards Holt, his anger not lessening with Holt's denial of killing Feldman.

"I didn't ... I wouldn't hurt either your dog or your grandmother," Holt stated, his voice shaking with fear as he took another step back.

"I don't know why you'd do it, but since your name was the one on the floral order, I don't think that I believe your plea of innocence," Harm snapped, taking another step forward.

This time, when Holt went to step back, he hit the wall.

Harm raised his arm and placed his forearm across Holt's throat.

He leaned in, applying pressure to Holt's larynx before he began to speak in a controlled, but hostile voice.

"I think that you'd be an idiot to hurt a member of my family, but in case you need it spelled out for you, if you _are_ the one targeting my family, then let me make it clear to you that, if you continue, the charges against you for murdering Feldman will be the least of your worries because you'll have to deal with me. Have I made myself clear?"

"I swear. It isn't me," Holt got out in a garbled mutter before he got choked up, but not from the pressure against his throat - he was crying.

There was something about the look in the man's eyes that told Harm that he wasn't acting.

Holt was scared of him, and if having someone confront him the way that he'd just done hadn't sparked even the slightest bit of anger in response, Harm didn't think that he was capable of violence.

Harm removed his forearm from Holt's throat.

"If you won't represent me, do you think that Ms. MacKenzie will?" Holt asked as he rubbed his throat with his hand.

"I'll be in touch about your case," Harm said, heading to the door.

Harm needed to retreat to reassess if he thought that the man who he was leaving against the wall in a pool of tears was capable of committing any crime.

Harm left the hotel and drove to the park not far from his children's school to walk off his anger.

He needed to put aside every other thought, from retirement to the possibility of becoming the next JAG, and focus on this one case because he knew that the murder of Dr. Feldman and the attacks on his family were related. He just had to figure out how.

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**1522**

He'd followed Rabb to the children's school on Monday morning and he'd been at the school every day since, watching for an opportunity to snatch young Abigail Rabb.

Today, he'd left the school early. He didn't believe that he'd been spotted by anyone, but he didn't want to be caught, and avoiding a pattern was one way of achieving that goal.

He was glad that he'd left early when his arrival home allowed him to see two people arrive with what appeared to be enough luggage to stay for at least a month.

He'd have to call Sarah later to see how she was feeling and to find out who the guests were.

He watched from his living room window as Rabb pulled into the driveway of his home, bringing his children home from school.

It had been only three days, but he was beginning to think that taking the little girl would be tougher than he'd thought.

Rabb drove them to and from school each day, and at school, he hadn't seen Abigail alone, either. She was always surrounded by other children or, at the very least, she was in the company of her brother.

He sighed.

An opportunity to grab Abigail might take weeks or months to happen.

He'd keep watching, hoping that he'd be able to take the little girl as planned, but he didn't think that it would hurt to start thinking about a plan B because he didn't want to wait months to make his next move.

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**SAME TIME**

Harm entered the house behind his children as usual.

He was about to tell Ty and Abigail to put their things away when Sami appeared.

"Guess who came to visit us," Sami said excitedly as she ran into the room.

"Who?" Ty and Abigail asked in unison.

"Grandma and Grandpa," Sami informed them, jumping up and down.

"Where are they?" Ty asked.

"In the living room," Sami answered before the three of them took off in that direction.

Harm stood motionless, absorbing this latest twist.

He hadn't told his parents what was going on here because he hadn't wanted them to worry, but now that they were here, he had no choice but to tell them that being in this house could be hazardous to their health.

Harm had been so lost in thought about how he was going to tell his parents that he didn't hear Mac enter the foyer.

As if she could read his mind, she put her hand on his arm as she said, "Your parents know. They said that two more pairs of eyes that are watching for signs of trouble would have to increase the odds of the good guys winning."

"You told them?" Harm inquired.

"No, your grandmother did when she called them from the hospital when it looked like she might have to be in there for more than a couple of days. When she called them back to tell them that she was getting out of the hospital sooner than she'd thought, they'd already made arrangements to come and decided to come anyway, even though she was feeling better."

Harm nodded in understanding. "I just hope that they don't give the guy two more targets."

"Me, too," Mac replied, wrapping her arms around her husband.

Harm responded by taking his wife into his arms.

They stood like that for several moments before Mac broke the silence.

"You should go say hello to your parents, but after that, while they're preoccupied with the children and the children are being entertained, we can have some time to talk. I want to hear about your meeting with the SecNav and I've got a couple of things for you to look over in regard to our case."

"I've got something to tell you about our client, too," Harm said, releasing his hold on Mac.

"Okay," Mac said as Harm took her hand and began to lead her to the living room so that he could greet his parents.

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**1600**

He started to dial Sarah's number, but thought better of it. He didn't want to risk Rabb answering the phone on the faint chance that he'd find something familiar in his voice. He'd call or go by the house tomorrow while Rabb was at work.

Rabb was the only person in the family with whom he'd ever had contact as himself, so he was the only one who might see through his disguise and discover his true identity.

**DEN/STUDY**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1615**

"So tell me ... did the SecNav mention how the selection for the next JAG was going or did you have to ask him about the rumor?" Mac asked as she went behind the desk.

"He brought it up," Harm answered, distracted by her pulling papers from a cardboard file box that was sitting on top of his desk.

"Since it's our anniversary and we decided not to go out to dinner alone because of the threat to our family, your parents are taking all of us out to dinner, and that gives us only an hour to talk about your meeting and the case, so don't make me drag it out of you with a bunch of questions. Just tell me what the SecNav had to say."

"He told me that I'm on a short list, one of four contenders. I think that he believes that I'm a very likely candidate since more than half of our meeting was about whether it would be more beneficial to him to transition someone into the remaining months of my assignment or if I should stay until my duties there are over and then rotate into my new position as the JAG."

"It certainly sounds like you have his vote," Mac said as she settled down into the chair behind the desk, having pulled out what she wanted to discuss from the box.

"Yes, it does. I just wish that I knew if I wanted the job or not," Harm said, sounding torn by his choices.

Mac knew that he'd been thinking of retiring, but she didn't think that he really wanted to leave the Navy. He just hadn't been able to let go of the idea of what might have been if he hadn't survived the diplomatic tour.

She wished that she could whisk him away for a long weekend. He might open up to her more if they were alone and away from the everyday pressures of life so that he could make his choice about retiring with a clear head, but for now, the only thing that she could do to help him was to lend her assistance with this case. So it was time for her to change the subject to James Holt.

"While the children napped today, I was able to read through some of the evidence package, but I must say that Holt's file from Dr. Feldman is what I spent the most time reading," she began.

"I made our client cry this afternoon," Harm admitted out of nowhere, sounding remorseful.

"How did you do that?" Mac asked, putting her notes down on the desk to allow Harm to fill her in on what had happened so that he could rid himself of the guilt that he was apparently feeling over the event.

"After I met with the SecNav, I got a call from Margie...Detective Lawson. During that call, I learned that the man who'd purchased the flowers had told the clerk that his name was James Holt."

Mac could see at least the next part coming and, in order to move the story along, offered, "So you went to see him. What happened?"

"I got in his face. I even got a little physical with him. I was trying to make him angry, piss him off so that he'd lose his temper ... in hopes that he'd confess, I guess, but he just cried."

"That's consistent with what I read in Dr. Feldman's file on him. He had dreams of getting even or hurting you because he was jealous of you. In his notes, Dr. Feldman said that his jealousy stemmed from envy that you had been the one to take charge, and that, not only could he not defend himself, but he was so scared that he shut down while you became a hero. James Holt has inadequacy issues, and the doctor believed that it would be highly unlikely that he'd ever act on any of his revenge fantasies. One line says, and I quote..." Mac picked up her notepad so that she could read a quote that she'd jotted down. "...It's far more likely that he'd hurt himself before he'd commit bodily injury to another."

"So, it's highly unlikely that he'd be able to beat a man to death, but if he didn't do it, who did? And why are they setting up Holt? How do they even know Holt?" Harm said, thinking out loud.

"It has to be someone who knows not only you and Holt, but what happened in the desert that would make Holt a viable scapegoat...and knew Dr. Feldman as well."

"I guess you'll have a busy day tomorrow ... questioning our client about who he may have talked to about our time in the desert while I'm at work," Harm commented.

Mac looked at him, confused.

"When I was about to leave his room, he asked me if I thought that Ms. MacKenzie would be his counsel if I wasn't going to represent him."

"So he doesn't know that I'm your wife ... another sign of his innocence, I'd say. So you're okay with me meeting with him?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay with it. Besides, if I made him cry, being in the cross hairs of a pregnant Marine will probably make him wet his pants," Harm said with a chuckle.

Having done all they could until Mac talked with their client, they made their way out to the living room to join the others.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**BEDTIME**

"I know that this isn't the anniversary that either of us had in mind, but it really wasn't that bad," Mac commented as she turned down the bed.

"I guess not. You got your steak dinner..." Harm said, agreeing with and teasing her at the same time. "...but when this mess is over, just the two of us will go out some place special."

"We will," Mac agreed emphatically.

"I started to send you roses today, but given the last roses that were delivered here, I didn't think that it was such a good idea," Harm said as he got into bed.

"I think that was a very wise decision on your part," Mac commented as she joined him.

Harm rolled over and, when he turned back to face her, he had a wrapped package in his hand. "But that didn't stop me from getting you this."

"I didn't know what to get you. Did you know that the traditional gift for a third anniversary is leather?" Mac began as tears started to sting her eyes. She took a deep breath to compose herself. It was silly to get worked up over whether he'd like his gift. She hated the hormonal part of pregnancy.

"I didn't, but, when I was having trouble deciding on a gift for you, I found out that it was. I know that we didn't have a traditional courtship, but I certainly want us to have a traditional and loving marriage, so I found the information very helpful," Harm said, more to fill the air with noise than to really explain how he'd arrived at his choice of gifts since she hadn't taken the gift that he was offering her yet.

Mac opened her night table drawer and extracted a gift box.

"I hope that you like what I finally decided on for you," Mac said as she offered her gift to him.

They exchanged gifts, and Mac tore the corner of the wrapping paper before she realized that Harm wasn't opening his gift.

"Aren't you going to open yours?" she inquired.

"I will, but I don't want to miss the look on your face when you see your gift."

Mac turned her attention back to her gift, quickly ripping off the paper, excited to see what was inside the box.

Mac's gift was an Italian leather handbag with a matching wallet.

Harm's gift was a leather wallet with the Navy emblem embossed on it.

After exchanging gifts and kissing good night, both wished that Mac wasn't so far along in her pregnancy so that they could end their anniversary night making love.


	102. Chapter 102

**PART NINE **

**THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2008**

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VIRGINIA**

**0917**

The ringing telephone could barely be heard over the noise of Matthew blabbing happily on his grandpa's lap and Sami talking excitedly to her grandparents about anything that crossed her mind.

Sitting at the end of the couch, Mac was closest to the end table where the phone was located, so she reached for the receiver.

"Hello, Rabb residence," Mac said, greeting the caller.

"May I speak to Sarah, please?"

The man's voice didn't sound familiar, so Mac wondered if she was the Sarah to whom he wanted to speak, so she asked, "May I ask who's calling, please?"

"This is your new neighbor from across the street," he answered.

"Oh, if you'll hold on for just a moment, I'll get her," Mac replied.

"Thank you," the kind sounding man said in response.

Mac covered the receiver and looked to Harm's grandmother.

"It's a rather pleasant sounding gentleman for you, Grandma," Mac said.

"I'm glad that he called today so at least I know that he isn't ill," she said as she got out of her chair with the intent of taking the phone from Mac.

However, when Sami, being her precocious self announced to her grandparents, "It's Gee Gee's boyfriend on the phone," the older Sarah Rabb changed her mind about talking in front of the others.

"I'll just go in the kitchen to take the call."

Mac nodded and waited to hear her pick up the cordless phone in the kitchen before she hung up in the living room.

**KITCHEN**

**MOMENTS LATER**

"Hi, Wayne, I'm so glad that you called today. I tried to call you Tuesday afternoon when I got home from the hospital and I tried several times yesterday, but I couldn't reach you, so I was worried that perhaps you weren't well."

"I'm sorry that I missed your calls, but I assure you that I'm as healthy as a man half my age."

"Where were you?" Sarah got out of her mouth before realizing that it was far too personal a question to ask since he wasn't her boyfriend. No matter what Sami thought, she and Wayne were just friends, at least for now. "I don't know if I asked more to make conversation or out of curiosity, but it's done of my business. So, I'm sorry. Please forget that I asked."

"No need to apologize. I'm glad that you're interested in what I'm doing. It means that you care, and that means a great deal to me." He paused for only a heartbeat. "Why don't you come over for tea this afternoon, and I'll tell you how I've kept myself busy while you were in the hospital? That is, if you can get away from your great grandchildren today."

"My daughter-in-law and her husband arrived yesterday for a visit, and I'm sure that they'll be more than happy to help with the young ones while I step out for tea with a friend. What time?"

"Is 12:30 okay?"

"Sounds fine. I'll see you then." Wayne couldn't see her smile, but she was smiling at hearing the sound of his voice and at the thought of seeing him this afternoon.

**STANFORD SUITES**

**ROOM 240**

**ARLINGTON VIRGINIA**

**1023**

Mac knocked on the door of James Holt's room.

Holt answered the door.

"Ms. MacKenzie, come in and, please, make yourself comfortable."

Mac stepped into his suite.

"We've been reviewing the prosecution's evidence and we've come up with a theory about the crime, but we don't have another suspect, so I'm hoping that you can help with that today by answering a few questions for me."

"_We_ have a theory? Are you working with someone else?" Holt asked.

"I was speaking about myself and Captain Rabb," Mac replied as she took a seat on the couch.

"I didn't get the impression from him yesterday that he was still on my side," Holt said, but Mac wasn't sure if it was an observation or a question.

"Well, when I spoke to Captain Rabb late yesterday about your case, he didn't mention wanting off the case, so I'd say that he's still very much on your side," Mac responded before steering the conversation back to his case and away from Harm's visit. "I hope that you don't mind that I suggested that we meet here. It's just easier to talk in a quiet room rather than in a restaurant," Mac said, removing her notepad from her satchel.

"No, I'm glad that you suggested that we meet here. I feel more comfortable discussing my troubles in private ... so much so that I attended only one of Dr. Feldman's group therapy sessions. I just couldn't talk about what happened in front of everyone. Do you know what happened? I mean why I was seeing Dr. Feldman?" Holt asked, sounding ashamed.

Mac made sure to make eye contact with him. "Your family attorney had a copy of the file delivered yesterday that Dr. Feldman had on your case, so I'm aware that you were part of the diplomatic tour that was ambushed and stranded in the desert this past summer."

Holt couldn't maintain eye contact and broke it before speaking to her.

"Then you know that I completely shut down and that I spent time in a mental health facility when I returned to the US." Holt paused, but not long enough for Mac to respond before he spoke again. "Do you think that my time in the looney bin is going to be used against me? You know, the crazy guy did it."

Mac sat looking in his direction, hoping that he'd turn to face her and that they'd make eye contact again as she spoke. "There are people who go through less than you did and have trouble dealing with what they've experienced, so you aren't crazy. As far as your time in the hospital goes, it'll probably come up as part of the prosecution's case if you go to trial, but we've still got a few weeks before that happens, so let's focus on figuring out who might want to frame you."

"How do we do that?" Holt asked, restoring eye contact with her.

"I'd like to know if you have any enemies." Holt looked confused, so Mac tried to clarify. "It could be a former business partner, an angry relative ... you were a campaign aide, so maybe a person on staff who wanted your position ... someone like that."

"My wife, maybe...she says that I'm not the same man as the one who left to go on that diplomatic tour. She just doesn't understand what I went through...what it was like over there," he said softly as if he were a thousand miles away in thought. "No, it can't be her. She's angry enough to ask me to move out, angry enough that she might use my time in the hospital against me in the divorce or to keep me from seeing my kids, maybe, but she's a good woman at heart. I can't see her framing me for murder."

"Your wife could be a possible suspect, but she doesn't have a link to the third party who we believe is part of this equation. Can you think of anyone else?"

"No, I'm sorry. Maybe if you told me your theory, it would help jog my memory."

Mac had avoided discussing their theory to prevent the possibility of planting an idea in his mind, but now it seemed necessary.

"You're aware of what's happened to members of Captain's Rabb's family, aren't you?"

"Painfully aware," Holt replied, rubbing his throat with his hand.

"Captain Rabb, the police and I agree - based on the evidence - that Dr. Feldman's killer and the one targeting the captain's family are one and the same person, which makes our theory that - in some way - you, Dr. Feldman and Captain Rabb share a connection to each other and that who or what that connection is, is why the doctor was killed and why they framed you."

"I met Captain Rabb when we were both on that diplomatic tour. We weren't friends or anything. We probably didn't say two words to each other the entire time. I met Dr. Feldman when I got back to the States, which was before Captain Rabb returned, so unless Captain Rabb was seeing Dr. Feldman, I can't think of anyone who would know both of us ... unless they were on that same diplomatic tour."

"The others who were on the tour with you are certainly linked with you and Captain Rabb, but that doesn't connect the two of you to Dr. Feldman, unless you're correct and the captain was also a patient. However, while we were discussing your case, I think that he would've mentioned if he'd had any sessions with Dr. Feldman, but I'll ask him to make sure that it isn't the missing piece of the puzzle. If you think of anything that might link three of you together or if a name comes to you, don't hesitate to call, and we'll check it out," Mac said before shoving her notepad back into the side of her satchel. "I'll talk to Captain Rabb this afternoon. If we have any more questions for you, I'll give you a call, but, in the meantime, try to relax."

"I appreciate all that you're doing, but what do you think my chances are of getting out of this, Ms. MacKenzie?"

"I know it's hard, and if we haven't figured it out before then, it'll get harder as your trial date gets closer, but keep the faith, Mr. Holt. Captain Rabb and I believe that you're innocent, and we'll keep digging until we find the truth, so I'd say that your chances are good." Mac's tone was reassuring, and James Holt appreciated it.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that."

"You're welcome."

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**1230**

Sarah knocked on Wayne's door.

The heavy oak door opened with a quick, fluid motion that surprised her, given Wayne's age.

"Hello, Sarah, my dear. It's lovely to see you. Come in. Come in," he said, the age in his voice not matching the youthful strength that it took to open the door that way.

Sarah pushed her observations out of her mind by telling herself that she was just getting all worked up over nothing.

It was her first outing after being poisoned, and she was simply acting paranoid now. Wayne had done nothing to deserve her mistrust.

It was the damned lunatic who was after her grandson that was making her question even the smallest event in her life, like walking across the street to have tea.

Damn him...her...whoever!

"Thank you for having me over today. You'll have to come to my place next time. You haven't been there, and I'd love for you to meet everyone," Sarah said cheerfully as she stepped farther inside his home.

"There's a cool breeze today. Certainly can tell that fall is upon us, so we'll have tea in the kitchen, if that's all right with you," 'Wayne' said with a smile

"That'll be fine."

"Then, may I take your wrap?" he asked solicitously.

"Yes, you may," Sarah Rabb said with a smile as she shrugged off her shawl.

When they reached the kitchen, Wayne pulled out her chair for her and waited for her to be seated before moving to the stove to prepare their tea.

It's little things like pulling out your chair or opening the car door for you or telling you that you look beautiful even though you're in the midst of a bout of the flu that Sarah realized is what she'd missed most by being a single woman.

Those simple things had been such a natural part of life with her late husband that she'd seldom mentioned to him how much things like that meant to her and made her feel special and loved, and that was why she'd never remarried. She hadn't found a man who treated her like that, at least until now.

"I must say that you look lovely. If I didn't know better, I would never have guessed that you were so recently in the hospital. I didn't want to ask your family when I called to check on you. I didn't want them to think that I was gathering fodder for Milly's gossip machine, but I would like to know what was wrong or at least if I should be worried about you having a relapse while you're sitting here having tea with me some afternoon."

"I ate something that I had a reaction to...just didn't agree with me, that's all. Never had it happen before and there's no reason to believe that it'll happen again."

Sarah hadn't been told to keep the news under wraps, but she didn't want him to slip up and tell Milly because then the whole neighborhood would know what had happened, and it might frighten some of their neighbors into not wanting to live on the same block with them, fearing that one of them would be hurt by mistake.

"You said that you'd tell me about what you've been up to in the last few days. So please tell me what exciting things you've been doing while I was out of touch," Sarah requested.

"I spent some time in the park. I like to watch the children play, and when there aren't any children around, I just sit and read for a while."

"Sounds relaxing. What else did you do?"

"I did some shopping for a doll that my daughter wants for her birthday," 'Wayne' replied as he put items on a tray in preparation for serving the tea.

"You don't mean your daughter, do you? You meant your granddaughter, right?" Sarah asked for clarification. He hadn't mentioned having any children, and she'd heard of men in their eighties having children with much younger women, but she'd never met such a man before.

"Of course I meant my granddaughter. She just looks so much like my daughter did at her age that it plays tricks on my old brain," he said, not looking up from the tray that he'd prepared. He was chastising himself for making such a foolish slip. He needed to be more careful and he needed to move off the subject of his family.

He lifted the tray off the counter and started to walk towards her when something clicked in his head.

She'd said something about the family's visitors earlier on the phone.

"You must understand what I mean since you said that your daughter-in-law and her husband had come for a visit. I mean, her husband would be your son, right?"

"No, he isn't. My son hasn't been with us for a long time," Sarah began, which led to what would become the topic that would fill tea time: the story of her son being shot down on Christmas Eve and how her husband had been shot down in WWII.

**ON THE SIDEWALK OUTSIDE**

**1345**

'Wayne' walked alongside Sarah until they reached the end of his walkway.

"You don't have to walk me home," Sarah said.

"Of course I do. I have to make sure that my best girl gets home safe and sound, don't I?" Wayne said with a wink that Sarah probably couldn't see since he wore his fedora with the brim pulled low over his eyes.

"I guess you do," Sarah responded.

As they started across the street, Wayne offered his arm, which Sarah took happily. She was feeling much younger than her age at the moment.

Since she was enjoying the company, she walked slowly towards the Rabb home in order to have just those few extra minutes with him.

They'd just reached the front door when an SUV pulled into the driveway.

Though he usually saw it from his window, 'Wayne' instantly recognized the vehicle.

Why was Rabb home before two? The children weren't out of school yet.

He was trapped. Too abrupt a departure would raise suspicions and too long a stay could be his undoing.

Knowing that he was going to be leaving in an hour or so to go pick up his children from school and wanting to meet the man with his grandmother, Harm left the car in the driveway instead of parking it in the garage and quickly made his way over to the couple.

"Hi, Grandma," Harm said cheerfully as he approached them.

"Hello, Harm," his grandmother replied as Harm arrived at her side and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"I've asked him to come here for tea tomorrow afternoon, but you probably won't be here, so you can meet him now. Harm, this is Wayne Milton. Wayne, this is my grandson, Harmon Rabb."

Harm extended his hand and, unable to do anything else, the man glasped his hand, and the two men shook hands and exchanged the customary 'nice to meet you' before Wayne made a hasty retreat by saying that he had a few errands to run and needed to be on his way.

**PARKING LOT**

**THOMAS JEFFERSON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL**

**MINUTES BEFORE THE END OF THE DAY**

After 'Wayne' returned home from his encounter with Rabb, he decided to drive over to the school. Perhaps today would be the day when he'd be able to grab Abigail.

Abigail exited the school alone.

If he was going to make this happen today, he had to act quickly.

He opened his car door and slid from the drivers' seat.

Walking along the sidewalk, he scanned the area to be sure that no one was paying him any mind.

Satisfied that no one seemed to find his presence out of the ordinary, he looked to see if his target was still alone.

Yes, and she wasn't very far from him now, standing alone near a tree.

He started to make his move, but, as he took a step closer, he saw her face light up just before he heard her say excitedly, "Daddy! Grandpa! You both came for me!"

His hopes of taking her today were dashed in an instant.

A moment later, her brother came out, apologizing for taking so long, but proudly showing off his achievement award for being an excellent reader.

'Wayne' turned and headed back to his car, hoping to get away unseen by Rabb and the man who he now knew, thanks to his chat this afternoon with Sarah, was his stepfather.

**DEN/STUDY**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1750 **

After dinner, since his parents were here, Harm and Mac ducked into the study to talk about the case while Grandma and Grandpa were roped into playing a game or two of 'Go Fish' with Sami, Matthew was playing on the floor with some blocks, Abigail was practicing her piano lesson on her keyboard in her room and Ty was playing a video game.

Mac wasn't sure how to ask the question that Holt had raised. She hoped that she'd get a truthful answer when she did work up the nerve to ask Harm if he'd seen Dr. Feldman professionally.

"Mac, I lost three men during the initial attack on the convoy. Maybe one of their family members is..." Harm began abruptly before his voice trailed off because he'd already figured out the flaw in that theory.

Mac started to argue that they were not _his_ men, but having taken charge when the American Embassy was under attack in Indonesia, she knew what he meant, so she decided to let his comment go unchallenged.

"It's funny, but Holt mentioned that the only connection that he had with you was being on the diplomatic tour, but if the murderer is someone who was there with you, what would be their connection to Dr. Feldman and why would they frame Holt?" Mac asked. The latter half of her question was the same thought that had entered Harm's head and the reason why he hadn't finished his statement.

"I don't have an answer for that," Harm stated.

"You know, Holt mentioned something else ... that maybe the link between you and he was Dr. Feldman ... that perhaps, at some point, you'd been a patient of his." There, she'd put it out there.

"Well, that isn't it. Except for the shrink who they made me talk to before I could be released as fit for duty this past summer, the only shrink who I remember talking to was Jordan, and that was on a personal level, not professionally."

"Did you ever use Dr. Feldman as an expert witness in a case?" Mac asked.

"Not that I can remember, so if I did, it would have to have been a very long time ago," Harm answered.

"Didn't you have to talk to a company shrink when you joined the dark side?" Mac asked.

"I guess that one slipped my mind because it was a quick visit since I had someone vouching for me, but yes, before my training was over, I had to talk to one. I don't remember his name, but Feldman doesn't sound right ... though you may be on to something. I told you that Webb has been keeping tabs on the progress of this murder case, so Feldman must have had patients in the company or some political higher ups that they're trying to protect in order for his involvement to make sense."

"Then do you want me to call Clay or do you want to do it so that we can find out if the company doc who talked to you was Feldman?"

"I'll call him," Harm grumbled.

"Harm..." Mac said, cautioning him.

"I was nice to that guy who my grandmother is seeing when I met him today, so I should be able to muster being nice to Webb tomorrow."

"You got to meet Wayne? When?" Mac asked curiously.

"When I pulled up this afternoon to check on you and pick up Frank, he'd walked Grandma home."

"So, do you like him better now that you know that he'll look out for your grandmother?"

"No, there was something about him...his handshake for one thing ... wimpy."

"He's an old man, Harm. How firm a grasp do you expect him to have?"

"There's something else, too. I'm pretty sure that I saw him at the school this afternoon. Why would he be there?"

"Today, your grandmother mentioned that she learned that he has a granddaughter. Maybe he was at the school to pick her up. Is there anything else about the guy that bothers you?" Mac asked.

"Yes. There's something familiar about him. I don't know what it is, but it's like I've met him before. I hear that he's been invited for tea here tomorrow, so we'll talk again after you meet him and you can tell me what you think of him."

"Okay," Mac replied. "I think that we've been over the forensic and the crime scene reports a dozen times. What do you want to discuss now?" she asked, bringing their focus back to the case.

Harm and Mac had to split their focus.

They were trying to figure out what connected the three men in the equation, knowing that it would lead them to who the real murderer was and who had attempted to kill his grandmother. However, Holt was to go on trial for murder in less than three weeks, so they also needed to prepare a legal defense.

Harm and Mac continued to discuss different aspects of the case until Trish tapped lightly on the door.

"I hate to interrupt, but I wondered if I should start Matthew's bath," Trish asked.

"Is it that time already? I guess we got carried away and lost track of the time," Harm said, glancing at Mac.

Mac just shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish grin on her face, admitting that she'd been so involved with the case that she hadn't checked her internal clock.

"We'll be right there," Harm said, starting to clear the desk.

Harm and Mac quickly put their notes away, deciding that fulfilling their duty as parents in charge of the bath and bedtime routine had to take priority.


	103. Chapter 103

**PART TEN **

**WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2008**

**ACROSS THE STREET FROM MILLY'S **

**1000**

Though 'Wayne' was feeling more confidant each day that his disguise was good enough to keep his real identity concealed since nothing had come of his face-to-face meeting with Rabb nearly a week ago - Rabb hadn't even made some excuse to stop by his place to take a second look - 'Wayne' was angry at his missed opportunity to grab Abigail Rabb and frustrated that things were moving so slowly.

This morning, he'd had an interesting idea.

Maybe just the thought that one of his little girls was the next target would be enough to rattle Rabb.

From there, he started to form Plan B.

As he sat at his kitchen table, wearing surgical gloves while he cut letters and words that he needed for his note, the wheels in his head were turning. Perhaps while Rabb was busy protecting his little girl, he'd be able to claim another member of the family as a victim.

Though he was still planning, he thought that his next real victim should be either Rabb's mother or the mother of his children.

'Wayne' started to hum as he carefully began to arrange the letters and words that he'd cut from magazines onto a piece of Dr. Feldman's stationary.

He was so glad that he'd kept some of the paper and envelopes when he'd planted that box in Holt's garage.

After spending some time arranging the cutouts to assure that what he wanted to say would fit on the paper, he began to glue the message onto the letterhead stationary.

When he was finished, the note read: Rabb, I've gotten close enough to get the dog and the old woman. I'm feeling lonely, so next I think that I'll take your pretty little girl to keep me company.

He read over his note a second time before folding it carefully and placing it in an envelope.

He then put everything into a box, laying the sealed envelope on top. He was expecting Sarah, so any further planning would have to wait until after her visit.

He made sure that he'd picked up everything, including any scraps of paper before taking the box to his bedroom and shoving it under his bed.

'If I haven't been able to take Abigail Rabb by the end of the week, I'll take the note to the post office and mail it on Saturday,' he thought as he checked his disguise in the mirror above his dresser before leaving his bedroom.

**ON THE SIDEWALK**

**HARM AND MAC'S STREET **

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1104**

Sarah Rabb walked slowly across the street, deep in thought on her way home after her visit with Wayne.

She was feeling fine, but there had been something about Wayne that had bothered her today.

In fact, her last few visits to his home, though he'd been the perfect gentlemen, he'd seemed different somehow.

Their conversations over tea before the past week had run the gamut of each other's likes and dislikes, everything from food to hobbies, but for the past week, his interest had seemed to be focused entirely on _her_ family.

When she'd ask about his daughter or if he had any other children or grandchildren, he'd try to distract her by saying something totally off topic, pretending that the thought had just occurred to him and that he wanted to mention it before it slipped his mind.

Maybe there was nothing wrong with him.

He was a man who'd lived almost as long as she had, so he had to have been through at least some of life's hard times.

Perhaps he was just having some troubles.

For instance, she knew that, every year, even after all these years, she felt melancholy for a few days around her wedding anniversary. Perhaps that's what was going on with him. Maybe his anniversary or his deceased wife's birthday was coming up or had recently passed, and that's why he was acting anxious or unsettled. She wasn't sure how to describe it.

She supposed that it could be that the threats on her family were making a suspicious woman out of her.

As she took the last few steps up to the door of her home, it dawned on her that Wayne had never mentioned what had happened to his wife. In fact, he hadn't ever said that he'd been married. She'd just assumed that he had been because he'd said that he had a daughter and, since he was close to her age, she'd also assumed that his wife had passed away.

Maybe he was still married, and his double life was starting to wear on him.

**DEN/STUDY**

**RABB RENTAL HOME**

**MANASSAS, VA**

**1250**

Mac was studying her notes and reviewing reports from the file box while the children napped and the house was blissfully quiet.

Trish saw the open door to the den and her daughter-in-law in deep concentration, so she passed by. Then she turned around and went back to the doorway. She had to stop in and check on Mac.

She rapped lightly on the door to let Mac know of her presence, but entered the room at the same time.

"Mac, dear, shouldn't you be resting while the children are napping? After all, you have only six more weeks until you'll have two little ones in diapers."

"Maybe not that long," Mac commented, looking up from the papers that she had spread out on the desk.

"Why? Are you having contractions, dear?"

"A twinge now and then, but I've been having them for the past several weeks. The doctor said not to worry, that they were just Braxton Hicks contractions, but she's also told us that the baby has dropped and, with this being my second pregnancy, she doesn't believe that I'll make it to my due date."

"You have an appointment with your doctor this afternoon, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, and though I could drive myself, Harm will be here to pick me up any minute. My appointment is at 1330, but he wants to get there early so that they might be able to see me earlier to ease the time crunch for him to get back here in time to get to the school to pick up Ty and Abigail."

"He's trying to do too much. I wish that he'd let Frank or me help out. I mean, he could sleep in an extra few minutes if he'd just let Frank and me take the children to school, for instance."

"I'm worried about him, too, Trish. He's starting to look even more tired than I feel, but I do understand why he feels that he has to do so much. He's concerned that we'll be hurt if we're away from home and he isn't with us. I just wish that he had one less thing to worry about." Mac said the latter while glancing down at the papers on the desk.

"You're talking about the case that the two of you are working on. How's it going?"

They hadn't told Frank and Trish that they believed that the case that they'd been working on after dinner all week while Trish and Frank had hosted the evening activity with the children had to do with the threats, and that's why they'd been working so hard on it.

"I think that we've got two possible defense strategies mapped out. I spoke about both options to our client when I called him yesterday afternoon. He's considering both options, and I'll speak to him before the end of the week to answer any questions that he may have before we decide which one to use," Mac informed her mother-in-law.

"...But..." Trish responded, prodding for more information. She knew that there was something else on Mac's mind.

"...But I know that our client is innocent. I know what these reports say," Mac said as she waved her hand over the desk. "I've studied them until I thought that I'd go blind, but all I come up with are questions like, where is the glue or the paste that he used?"

Trish had no idea what Mac was talking about, so she remained silent, letting her daughter-in-law get off her chest what was eating at her.

Mac saw the confusion on Trish's face.

"The box of evidence that they found in our clients garage contained what appeared to be everything, but there was no type of adhesive in the box. Why would you store everything else in one box except the glue?"

Trish shrugged her shoulders, and Mac continued to talk out loud.

"I know that there's got to be some common denominator between the three parties at the core of this case, but I've failed to figure out what it is. Harm might be able to figure out the connection if he'd stop for five minutes to take a breath, but he's so busy trying to take care of all of us while considering whether he wants to retire, especially now that the SecNav has informed him that he has a good shot at being appointed as the next JAG. If it weren't for the threat hanging over our heads, I'd ask you and Frank to watch the children and take him away for the weekend. I'm not talking about going on a long trip, just taking him to a B & B somewhere close, yet he'd be away from the house, which hopefully would reduce some of his stress so that he could relax a little and make a rational decision."

"Frank mentioned to me that Harm had confided in him that he didn't know if he wanted to be the JAG...that he still wouldn't be in the courtroom, which he misses, and it could mean long hours that would take time away from his family."

"It sounds like maybe Frank should take him away for the weekend since Harm's apparently talked to him more than he has to me," Mac said, upset that her husband hadn't talked to her about any of what he'd told Frank.

"Who's talked to Frank more than to you?" Harm asked from the doorway.

"You," Mac huffed angrily before telling him, "I'll be ready to go in five minutes." Then she marched from the room.

"It seems as if I'm in trouble with her a lot lately," Harm said, sounding dejected.

"She understands that you're at a crossroads in your life and that you're wrestling with making a tough decision, and the fact that you haven't confided in her is upsetting her."

"I'll talk to her," Harm responded to his mother. Knowing that, if he stayed in the room, his mother would want to continue this conversation, he said as a means to excuse himself, "I'm going to change into civvies while she gets ready."

His mother was willing to let the conversation alone about what was on his mind, but she wasn't finished with expressing her opinion about how Mac was feeling and how she thought that he could go about it so that Mac didn't feel completely shut out.

"Harm..." Trish began, using his name in a soft tone, not only to keep him from leaving the room, but to make sure that he wasn't put off from the start because she had an idea to which he was probably going to be resistant and she needed him in a pliable frame of mind from the beginning if she was going to get him to agree.

"The case that the two of you are working on has Mac frustrated, and she's worried about you taking on so much and having no time for yourself. Today, your time is stretched so thin that you'll be pushing it to get back to this side of town to pick up the children." Trish's informative tone changed to more of a pleading one. "Let Frank and me ease some of your stress by picking up the children from school. We'll be careful."

She took a breath before delivering the other half of her plan, and when she spoke again, her voice was filled with the concern that she had for her son and his wife.

"Take your wife to dinner or stop for ice cream...do something, anything, but spend a little time together. Give her and you a little break, and both of you will feel better, I promise," Trish said before hugging him in a comforting embrace that only a mother can give, no matter the age of the child.

"You have to promise me that, at any sign of trouble, you'll call the police. Don't wait to be sure that it's something serious. It's better for you to be wrong than to wait too long to call for help," Harm cautioned her, letting his mother know that he was genuinely considering her offer to pick up the children.

"I promise," Trish replied with a smile.

"..And that you'll call when you get home," Harm said, adding to his conditions.

"I promise. Now go change and take your wife to the doctor to make sure that all the stress hasn't had an adverse affect on her or my new granddaughter, and then take your time coming home. We'll be fine here."

"Okay, Mom," Harm said, surprising his mother.

"What's going on, Harmon?" Trish asked with an odd, distrusting look.

"Why would you think that something's going on?"

"Because you never give in that easily."

"Mom...I've got to go change so that I can get Mac to the doctor," he said, leaving his mother in the den, wondering if her son was up to something or cracking under the pressure that he was under.

**IN THE CAR**

**ON THE WAY TO BETHESDA**

Mac had been staring out the window.

She hadn't said a word since she'd told him that she was ready leave for her appointment.

Harm hadn't said a word either, just glanced her way when he felt that it was safe to do so, but with the SUV on the beltway headed for Bethesda, he didn't want to remain silent any longer.

"Mac, you were in the study looking over the case again when I got home. Did you come up with anything new?"

"No, I keep coming up with the same questions. The link between you and James Holt is the diplomatic tour, and since you were able to verify that Feldman isn't the CIA shrink who you spoke to, Feldman is linked to Holt, but not to you...and it doesn't make sense for someone to kill the doctor in order to frame Holt without stealing his file or changing it to suggest that he was capable of carrying out his revenge fantasies."

She hadn't turned her head to face him when she'd answered, but she had answered him, so she wasn't angry with him.

However, if she wasn't angry with him, then she was hurt, and knowing that he'd hurt her made him feel ten times worse.

"We've been hitting that same brick wall for at least a week now," Harm commented.

"I know. I started to wonder today if we're completely off track and if there's a different way to look at this," Mac said as she continued to look out the window.

"Such as?" Harm inquired.

"Like maybe it is his wife...or maybe Holt saw the killer, but doesn't realize that he did, but the killer saw him and decided to pin the crime on Holt before Holt could point a finger at him."

"That last one is a good theory. I had a similar idea today," Harm replied.

"I called Holt today to ask him if he could remember seeing anyone outside Feldman's office or the building when he left his appointment the night that the doctor was killed, but he said that he didn't remember seeing anyone. If something comes to mind, he's supposed to call, and if you can get away from the office on Friday, we're supposed to meet him for lunch to cement our defense strategy," Mac informed him.

"I called Mar...Detective Lawson." Harm knew that Mac was already upset with him, so he didn't want it to sound like he was getting too chummy with the female officer on the case. "I asked her if they'd looked at any of the doctor's other patients as a possible suspect before they'd gone after Holt."

Mac turned to look at him for the first time.

"What did she say?"

"She said that they hadn't questioned any other patients because they couldn't get a judge to sign a court order releasing the doctor's patient list. In fact, they didn't have any suspects until they talked with a Dr. Jason Twain, who helped them break the code in Dr. Feldman's appointment book. Dr. Twain also gave them the code of two patients that Feldman had told him that he had concerns about -"

"Two patients, but you just said that they didn't talk to any other patients," Mac said, cutting him off, but wanting clarification before he continued.

"Detective Lawson told me that, since Agent Webb was directly responsible for them not getting the court order, she asked him for the name of the patient who was the last one to have an appointment with the doctor that evening, and since that name matched one of the two names that Dr. Twain had said that Feldman had concerns about, and then the search of Holt's home uncovered the magazines and other items taken from the doctor's office..." Harm's voice trailed off, giving Mac time to let it all sink in.

"So they didn't bother to find out who the other person is who Dr. Twain mentioned." Harm hadn't needed to pause because Mac was right there with him. "Then, I'll call Webb to see if we can get him to give us the list since I'm sure that you can charm how to decode the names in Dr. Feldman's appointment book from Margie...Detective Lawson." The last part came out a little snarky, so he knew that she hadn't completely forgiven him yet. "I'll call Clay right now," Mac said.

"No need for you to call him," Harm commented.

"You've already called him. What did he say about giving us the list?" Mac asked.

"He protested, so I told him that I'd file a motion to get the list released if he didn't give it to me, and he still resisted. Then I told him that it really wasn't in the Agency's best interest not to turn it over since, if I didn't get the list from either him or from the court, I was sure that my buddy at the Washington Post would love to hear about a new government conspiracy."

"So he agreed to turn over the list."

"He agreed to turn over a list that doesn't include the names of interest to the government. The modified list arrived by messenger as I was packing up to leave, so I haven't looked it over, but it's in my briefcase back at the house."

"Then we can look at it when we get home after my appointment. You can see if you know anyone on the list, and if you know them because they were with you on the diplomatic tour, then we've probably got our killer. If it isn't that easy, I'll show the list to Holt tomorrow to see if he knows anyone on the list, and if the two of you know the same person...we've connected the dots."

"Sounds like a plan," Harm stated.

He didn't want the car to fall back into an uncomfortable silence, so he blurted out, "My parents offered to pick up the children from school."

"You agreed to that?" Mac asked, sounding shocked.

"I made Mom promise to call the police at the slightest hint of something being out of place and to call and let us know that they'd made it to the house okay. I thought that you and I needed a few minutes away from everything and everybody to catch our breath. If they picked up the children, it might be too early for dinner, but I thought that we could stop for a snack or take a walk...whatever you want to do or feel up to doing," Harm offered in explanation to his wife.

"How about we stop at Beltway Burgers?" she asked jokingly.

"If that's what you want, then Beltway Burgers it is," Harm replied.

Mac tried not to smile, but at his obvious attempt to get out of her doghouse, she couldn't help it.

"Let's see what we're in the mood for when we've finished at Bethesda, and then we'll decide where we want to stop," Mac suggested.

"Sounds good," Harm replied, his classic smile firmly in place.

**FRIENDLY'S ICE CREAM SHOP**

**BURKE, VA**

**1535**

Mac's appointment had gone well, but they hadn't been able to get in even a few minutes early. In fact, an emergency had kept them from getting in to see the doctor until 1400.

Harm knew that if they'd run late without the prior arrangement for his parents to pick up the children, he could've called them to pick them up, but then his children would've been waiting outside the school until their grandparents could get there, which would've been a bigger risk than planning to have his parents pick them up in the first place.

Though finding out that momma and baby were fine took only fifteen minutes once they got in to see the doctor, the traffic on the beltway would've forced Harm to drive risking life and limb to ensure that he got to the school on time.

It was much better that he'd been able drive like a sane man in the heavy traffic.

Mac had said that she was craving a hot fudge sundae when they'd left the hospital, so, with a call from his mother saying that they had the children home safe and sound, Harm had stopped at the ice cream parlor closest to their home.

They'd sat down with their order, and Harm was lost in thought, wondering if this was really the place where he wanted to talk to Mac.

"I shouldn't be eating this sundae. I gained two pounds in the two weeks since my last appointment," Mac said, trying more to get her husband's attention than to talk about the fact that she'd gained more weight, but he didn't respond.

Thinking that he must not have heard her, Mac reached across the table and put her hand on his arm.

"Harm..."

She had his attention now. "Are you okay?" Mac asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere else or do something else before we head home," Harm replied.

Mac doubted that it was really what he was thinking about, but she wouldn't push him.

"I'd like to go home. We could take a look at that list and then have dinner with our family," Mac suggested.

"Home is our next stop then ... when you're done with your ice cream," Harm added with a grin.

**STUDY/DEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1630**

Mac was sitting with her feet up on the couch, listening to Harm who was sitting behind the desk reading the names on the list out loud to her.

He read maybe ten names when he suddenly stopped.

"Do you recognize the next name?" Mac asked.

"Not only do I recognize the next name on the list, but he fits the criteria of being a connection between me, Holt and Dr. Feldman ... Patrick Davenport."

"Patrick Davenport...Patrick Davenport..." She knew that the name sounded familiar, but it took a second for it to click. "...as in the State Department guy who didn't like how you handled -"

"- the incident in the desert!" Harm said, finishing the sentence for her.

"Now that we have a much better suspect, how do you want to handle it?" Mac asked.

"I'll read the rest of the list to make sure that I don't know anyone else, and if he's the only one, I'll call Webb. He'll have an easier time than the Virginia detectives at getting the State Department to give up information on one of their own, and tomorrow I'll go see the detectives and tell them about Davenport. Maybe the florist shop clerk will be able to ID him as the man who purchased the flowers and sent my grandmother the poisoned chocolates."

Harm read through the rest of the list and then read through the list again before he was satisfied that he didn't recognize any of the other names.

Once satisfied that only the one name was familiar to him, Harm called Clayton Webb and read him the riot act for impeding the investigation into Dr. Feldman's murder by blocking the release of the list of Feldman's patients, which had resulted in the arrest of the wrong man and the poisioning of his grandmother.

Harm also told Webb who they suspected was the real murderer, and if he wanted to atone for the the trouble that he'd caused, he could talk the State Department into giving Detectives Lawson and Bellini the information that they needed in order to find Patrick Davenport and arrest him.

Clay made some excuse about just following orders and that he hadn't wanted to be sent to some place like Tierra Del Fuego like he'd been sent to after he'd turned over the tape concerning the Angelshark.

Webb did tell Harm that he was sorry that the case hadn't been solved before his grandmother had suffered.

Still not wanting to accept personal responsibilty for anything, Webb informed Harm that he hadn't seen the list himself, that he'd simply been reporting to his superiors about the police investigation and that it hadn't been until he'd told Kershaw that it was Rabb who was pressing for the list and wouldn't let go until he got it that the Agency decided to cave in and give Harm, as Holt's defense counsel, the edited list. Webb claimed that he'd given the list to Harm in the same sealed envelope in which he'd received it.

Once the call to Webb had been completed, Harm and Mac had done all that they could do for the time being, so they spent the rest of the evening enjoying time with their family.


	104. Chapter 104

**PART ELEVEN**

**THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 2008**

**STUDY/DEN**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT**

Harm couldn't fall asleep, which he found odd since he hadn't been having trouble sleeping, but now that he was pretty sure that he knew who was after his family, all of a sudden, he couldn't sleep. How did that make sense?

Harm seldom drank anything stronger than a diet cola these days, but there were occasions like a Roberts' family function where he'd have a beer or a meal where he'd have a glass of wine, but tonight, he'd retrived the bottle from high up on the bookshelf and poured himself a bourbon, hoping that the drink would take the edge off and allow him to sleep.

Harm was sitting at the desk, taking a gulp of the bourbon when he heard a loud noise.

It sounded like it had come from the kitchen.

Harm put the glass down on the desk and jumped to his feet, the two actions done so quickly that they seemed like one, and hurried to the kitchen to investigate the source of the noise.

**KITCHEN**

**MOMENTS LATER**

"Grandma," Harm said when he saw her standing in the kitchen, sweeping the floor.

"I'm sorry, Harm," his grandmother said, glancing up in his direction for just a moment before turning her attention back to her sweeping. "I hope that I didn't wake Mac or the children with my clumsiness. I dropped a cup, and it broke into what must be a million pieces."

Harm heard tears in her voice.

"You didn't wake me. I was already up," Harm confessed.

"You couldn't sleep, either? Is it because of that case that you're working on?" His grandmother asked the question, trying to gloss over her confession about not being able to sleep.

"Yes, but I don't know why. I think that we've figured it out. It's just a matter of getting corroborating evidence to prove it."

"Maybe you just answered your own question," his grandmother said, looking up from her sweeping to look him in the eye. "You're awake because you're worried that you won't be able to gather the evidence that you need to prove that you're right."

It probably wasn't the only reason, but it certainly was one of the reasons because, if they couldn't prove what they believed to be true, Davenport would still be free to take potshots at his family.

"You could be right about that," Harm acknowledged with a sigh.

Harm's grandmother returned her attention to her sweeping.

"I shared, so it's your turn. Why can't you sleep? Boyfriend troubles?" Harm asked, moving to take the dustpan from his grandmother.

"How did you know?"

"Having a teenage daughter has taught me a lot about the signs of when a boy is on a girl's mind," Harm said with a chuckle before stooping down to place the dustpan near the pile of broken cup shards.

"He really isn't my boyfriend. We've only been having tea together, but I'm not going to see him anymore."

"What did he do?"

Harm's grandmother smiled at his protective 'if he's hurt you, I'll hurt him' tone.

"I don't know that he's done anything," she replied with a sigh.

"...But you suspect something?" Harm said in a questioning tone.

"I suspect that he isn't who he appears to be," Sarah stated sadly.

"What makes you say that?" Harm asked as he dumped the pieces of the broken cup into the trash can.

With the floor swept clean, Sarah clutched the broom tightly in her hand as she replied to her grandson's question.

"You know the old saying: 'If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.' I guess that's the easiest way to explain it. He seemed so perfect, but then, especially over the last week, I started to notice things."

"Like...?" Harm said, trying to gather more information.

"Like...he always wants to talk about my family but not about his, and I noticed today, well, yesterday now, that he doesn't have one single picture of a person in his house. It's like he's hiding the fact that he has a family."

"That does seem a little odd," Harm commented.

"Now, the romantic novel reader in me would like to think that he's some kind of secret agent or undercover cop on assignment and it was kismet that we met while he was working, but I'm a more realistic woman than that, and I suspect that it's something far less romantic, so my gut tells me to run. Since I've made up my mind about Wayne, I guess the real reason why I'm up is because I was trying to come up with a way to tell you that I want to go back to the farm for a little while. With Trish and Frank here, you don't need my help. I just need some time away from here to clear my head, but I want to come back to meet the new baby girl in the family when she arrives."

"How soon were you thinking about leaving?" Harm questioned, and his grandmother could hear the understanding in his voice.

"I hadn't picked a date. I wanted to talk to you first. I don't want to take off too suddenly because it might upset the children, but I'd like to leave within the next few days."

"Why don't you sleep on it and decide tomorrow when you'd like to go back to the farm?" Harm suggested, reaching for the broom.

"That's a good idea, dear," she said, releasing the broom to him. "Are you sure that you're okay with me leaving?"

"Whatever is best for you, Grandma, is okay with me."

"Thank you," she said, giving him a hug before toddling off to her room.

After Harm put away the broom and dustpan, he returned to the den to finish his drink.

**MASTER BEDROOM**

**0235**

Mac woke up to make what had become her routine, middle-of-the-night bathroom run to find that she was the only occupant of the bed.

After getting out of bed, she checked the clock to verify that her internal one wasn't suffering a malfunction.

The clock agreed with her time, 0235.

So where was Harm?

After taking care of the need that had awakened her, she went in search of her husband.

**DEN**

**MOMENTS LATER**

Seeing the light on in the room is how she decided that this is where he was, and when she entered the den, she saw him sitting on the couch, his head tilted against the back of the couch, asleep.

She moved closer and lifted the glass with a small amount of brown liquid in it to her nose.

A quick sniff told her that it was bourbon.

She returned the glass to its place on the coffee table.

Mac sat down next to her husband and, whether it was her presence or her body coming to rest next to him, he started to stir.

He lifted his head off the back of the couch and opened his eyes. "Mac..." he said in a voice heavy with fatigue.

"Tie one on, Sailor?" Mac asked, pointing to the nearly empty glass of bourbon on the coffee table.

Putting his hand on her thigh and looking her in the eye, he answered, "No...just had one to relax so I could get to sleep. I guess it worked," he said, his words followed by a yawn.

"Why couldn't you sleep?"

"A combination of things..." Harm's voice trailed off. He was once again wondering if this was really a good time to talk about the things on his mind.

"Talk to me, Harm...please?" Mac's voice was pleading.

"I want to...but I don't want to put too much on your shoulders. You're doing enough already..." he said, patting her stomach "...and you're helping with the case, too."

"Harm, I could understand you holding back if I was having some of the problems that I had with the last pregnancy, but we're fine," she said as she placed her hand over his on her stomach. "The doctor told you so herself just yesterday. So, talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking and feeling."

"You might be sorry you asked," Harm said with a half smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I'm willing to risk it," she responded while lovingly caressing his cheek.

"I had about a ten minute meeting with the SecNav yesterday morning. He informed me that, in the last committee meeting, they cut a name from the list, and he wanted me to tell him if I wanted the JAG position."

Harm paused long enough for Mac to think that he'd stop talking.

"What did you tell him?" Mac asked.

"I told him that I wasn't sure, and he asked me to explain myself. I told him that I'm at a crossroads in my life where I'm not sure if continuing my career in the Navy is in my family's best interest."

"If you'd started a family back when you were a lieutenant or a commander, would you have wanted to get out of the Navy to have more time with your family?" Mac asked him, outlining his ear with the tip of her index finger.

"I might have wanted to, but I wouldn't have left the Navy because, being a sailor is how I would've wanted to support my family."

"That tells you something, doesn't it?" Mac asked.

"But I wasn't eligible for retirement then. I am now, so it isn't as if I won't have an income. Between your retirement income and mine, we'd be okay financially."

"I'm sure that we would, but money isn't everything. Right now, I'm happy to be a wife and mother who's able to stay at home. However, as the children get older and this baby starts school, I don't see myself staying at home full-time. I may want to go back to practicing law or I may do volunteer work, but I'll want to do something outside the house. I don't want to be only a wife and a mother, but it's important to me to be home with them every day while they're so young. If you stay in the Navy, you'll be doing what you were born to do, and you'll have your children and wife to come home to when you've had a bad day. If you become the JAG, you could retire in a few years. Think about it. It would work out so that I'd be taking the diaper and nursing years, and you'd get them when they're a little older."

A smile came across Harm's face.

"You think that you could handle being married to the Judge Advocate General?"

"Have I had any trouble handling you so far?" Mac asked in a suggestive tone.

"No trouble at all," Harm responded while shaking his head in disbelief that she'd put that kind of a spin on the subject, given her current condition.

"How did the SecNav leave things with you?" Mac asked.

"He said that there's another meeting on the Hill on the subject next Friday, the third of October, but he wants my decision no later than the first."

"Harm..." Mac took a deep breath and let it out before she spoke. "How much of your wanting to retire has to do with spending more time with your family versus how much you want to protect us - from worrying about you if you're away from home to protecting us from people who might want to hurt us? I ask because, if it's the latter, then you're a good man, but you need to stay in the Navy. Those situations are rarities, and you shouldn't give up something that you love because of a couple of freak incidents. I want you to think about that before you make your final decision, okay?"

"Okay," Harm agreed.

"I also want you to know that you can talk to me about anything, anytime...day or night, okay?"

Again, Harm agreed before leaning over and placing a kiss on her lips.

"Now, let me tuck you into bed so that you can get a few more hours of sleep," Mac said, patting him on the thigh.

"Sounds good," he said, standing first and then offering his wife a hand to help her get up.

**STANFORD SUITES**

**ROOM 240**

**ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA**

**0945**

Harm had to go into the office to make sure that everything was handled there before he could leave to take care of a case that he probably shouldn't have taken in the first place, but he called Margie as soon as he got in and told her what he and Mac had discovered late yesterday afternoon when they'd been going over the part of the patient list that Webb had reluctantly obtained for him.

When Margie asked him how he'd managed to get the list from Webb, Harm just told her that he knew Webb well enough to know which buttons to push, carefully avoiding the fact that there had been a threat involved.

After Margie told Harm that Davenport fit the code of the second patient that Dr. Twain had told them about, he talked Margie into agreeing to pull the evidence boxes for both the doctor's murder and the attempted murder of his grandmother to let him look through them. However, Harm wanted to make one stop on his way to the police station.

Harm knocked firmly on James Holt's hotel room door.

"Just a minute," came a verbal response from inside the room.

James Holt opened the door.

When Holt saw Harm, he swallowed hard out of fear. His last visit hadn't been a pleasant one, and he was nervous that this one would be the same ... or worse.

"Mr. Holt, first I'd like to say that I was guilty of overreacting on my last visit and I'd like to apologize for my behavior."

"You said first, so why else are you here?" James Holt asked, not feeling particularly forgiving at the moment.

"I've got news about your case, and I thought that I'd stop by here to give you the good news in person."

James Holt was suddenly feeling very forgiving.

"Come in," Holt said welcomingly.

Harm entered as requested.

"You said that you had good news?" Holt questioned after he'd closed the door and turned to face the Navy captain.

"Yes, good news. We acquired a document yesterday that supplied us with the name of a man who was also seeing Dr. Feldman and who was on the diplomatic tour. There are still some questions, like how he knew that you were seeing the doctor, but we believe that, as witnesses are re-interviewed by police, the answers will be uncovered."

James Holt suddenly went ghostly white, and Harm thought that he was going to pass out.

"Davenport..." Holt gasped.

"What about Davenport?" Harm asked, his curiosity piqued by him coming to that conclusion when he hadn't mentioned him by name.

"I didn't think about it until just now, but one Thursday, Dr. Feldman had to cut my session short by a few minutes because he said that he had a patient on his way in who was in crisis, and when I was coming out of the office, I saw Davenport."

"That answers one of the questions - how he knew that you were a patient. If he saw you there once, it wouldn't have been hard for him to sit in the parking lot another Thursday or two to see if you had the same appointment time every week."

"So Davenport killed Dr. Feldman. Do you think that he's the one who's also been after your family?" Holt asked.

"We believe so," Harm replied.

"So this nightmare could all be over soon."

"I don't know how soon, but I do believe that, with the new information, it won't take long to put the pieces together. Once Davenport is arrested, the case pending against you will be dismissed. I called the detectives on the case this morning to fill them in on the latest discovery. I'm on my way to the police station now to look over items that weren't of use in the case against you, but now that we have a new suspect, the items in evidence might make sense."

"I hope that they put the pieces together quickly...for both of our sakes."

Harm nodded in understanding that the man wasn't only hoping to be free of the murder charge, but that he was also hoping that Harm's family would be safe again as well.

"I'll be in touch when I know more," Harm said, extending his hand.

After shaking hands, Harm was on his way to see Detectives Lawson and Bellini.

**POLICE PRECINCT**

**INTERROGATION ROOM **

**ARLINGTON, VA**

**1045**

Margie had been kind enough to let Harm use an interrogation room to go through the items in the evidence boxes because it had a large table in it.

Harm had sorted through the evidence that they had on the attempted murder of his grandmother first.

There wasn't much tangible evidence. The invoice from the florist shop and the empty chocolates box was about it. So he pulled out his briefcase and reviewed the lab report on the chocolates and the statement that the floral clerk had made before he opened the box of evidence on the murder of Dr. Feldman.

Harm was staring at a photo of a man entering a building, wearing a fedora so low on his brow that you couldn't see his face when Margie entered the room.

"I'm sorry that I have to keep leaving you in here alone, but I'm back until the next crisis. Did you find anything?"

"This photograph, why is it in here?" Harm asked.

Margie took the photo and gave it a look before answering.

"The building where Dr. Feldman's office was located had a lone security camera on the entrance. This is the photo of a man entering the building at five 'til six the night of the murder. As you can see, the hat is pulled down in such a way that the camera didn't get a clear view of his face, so we were never able to identify him."

Harm spent some time looking over each of the items in the box, but nothing struck him as useful.

He was putting the items back into the box, but he'd almost forgotten the photo until Margie handed it to him.

Harm looked at the picture again after taking it from Margie.

There was something about that photo that seemed familiar to him.

He hated that feeling of knowing something, but not being able to pull the information from wherever it was locked away. It had happened last week when he'd sensed something familiar about his grandmother's boyfriend, too.

"Didn't the clerk at the florist say that the man who paid for the flowers for my grandmother was wearing a fedora so low that she couldn't see his face very well?" Harm asked.

"Yes, and any facial feature recognition was hindered because he had both a mustache and a beard."

"I knew that there was something about him..."

"About who?" Margie asked.

"My grandmother's boyfriend...he was wearing this hat!" Harm said, quickly coming to his feet.

"But you said that this Davenport guy was responsible for all this. So now you're saying that it's this guy and that he's your grandmother's boyfriend?" Margie was confused since he'd seemed so sure on the phone that it was this Davenport character.

"I'm saying that I believe that the man in this picture is Davenport...that handshake...I should've put it together sooner. That SOB is wearing a disguise and dating my grandmother right under my nose. He's been living across the street from us! Hell, he's been in my house!" Harm practically yelled, beating himself up for not realizing it before his grandmother had been poisoned.

"I'll grab Sal, and we'll get a search warrant right now."

Harm was out of the building like a rocket.

Even though his grandmother had said that she wasn't going to see 'Wayne' any more, he wanted to get home before the police arrived to make sure that his grandmother wasn't at 'Wayne's' house having tea one last time.

**LIVING ROOM**

**RABB RENTAL HOME  
MANASSAS, VA**

**1230**

Harm saw only Mac in the living room when he walked in the house.

"Where's my grandmother?" he asked in his command voice.

"She's decided not to see Wayne anymore and she's feeling a little down about it, so, once the children went down for their naps, your parents took her out to try to cheer her up. Why?"

"I wanted to make sure that she wasn't at his house because the police are on their way there to talk to him."

"Why?" Mac asked, somewhat confused.

"Do you remember when I told you that there was something about him that I didn't like?"

"As I recall, you had a list of things that you didn't like about him," Mac said with a cheeky grin.

"Well, I had good reason. If I hadn't had my head up my six thinking about becoming the next JAG, I might have figured it out sooner. That handshake should've been enough!"

"What are you talking about, Harm?" Mac asked seriously.

"Wayne is Patrick Davenport!"

"Are you sure?" Mac asked in shock.

"Yes!"

"You shouldn't blame yourself. You've been doing a lot more than trying to decide if you want to retire or be the next JAG. You've been worrying about me and the baby, working a case, keeping us all safe and fulfilling all your regular duties at the Pentagon. You're exhausted," Mac offered, hoping to put an end to him beating himself up because she was sure that he'd done it all the way home.

After pausing briefly, Mac asked, "How did you figure it out?"

"It all came together for me when I found a security camera photo in the evidence box from the Feldman murder. The picture was of a man who they hadn't been able to identify because the angle of the camera couldn't get a picture of his face because of his hat...his fedora was pulled down too low. It was then that it all clicked for me. 'Wayne Milton' seemed familiar to me because he's Davenport!"

Harm turned towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Mac asked.

"I want to be there when they put the cuffs on him."

"Aren't you going to go pick up the children from school?" Mac asked, hoping to discourage him from confronting Davenport on his own, but Harm was already out the door.

However, Mac needn't have worried. Lawson and Bellini hadn't been far behind Harm and were already beginning a search of the 'Milton' residence after having been able to quickly obtain a search warrant.

In a cursory search of the 'Milton' home, the detectives found a box under his bed that was taken in as evidence when it was discovered that it contained the materials for making the note that had been sent to Harm, including some of the stolen magazines from Feldman's office, several envelopes and sheets of Feldman's letterhead stationary and the glue that he'd used to adhere the message to the paper. On top of the other contents of the box, they also found another note that was ready to be mailed.

After finding out about the note that threatened one of his little girls, Harm was angry...so livid that he was glad that the police were present or he might have taken the law into his own hands.

The only thing that had pleased Harm more than seeing Patrick Davenport put in cuffs, read his Miranda rights, placed in the back of a police car and driven away was that the police had been able to accomplish the task in time for him to leave to pick up his children from school.

**1525**

Harm entered the house behind Ty and Abigail, smiling happily until he saw his grandmother, who looked like she'd been crying.

After the children had greeted Gee Gee, Harm instructed them to go put their things away.

"You look like you've been crying, Grandma? Are you okay?" Harm asked.

"I will be."

"What happened?"

"When I got home, Milly called...she saw the police put Wayne in the backseat of a police car this afternoon. Milly said that she'd heard that he'd been arrested for embezzlement the first time she called, and about five minutes ago, she called again and said that she'd heard that he'd been arrested for being a polygamist."

"You don't care why he was arrested, do you?" Harm asked hesitantly, hoping that he wouldn't have to be the one to confirm for her that her instincts had been correct and that he wasn't who he'd said he was, and he really hoped that she wouldn't find out that he'd been the one who'd poisoned her.

"Not really...it's easier on me if I can pretend that his undercover assignment was over and they had to take him away in handcuffs in order to protect his identity for his next assignment. It hurts less that way than to think that the first guy who I've really liked in a long time was too good to be true. Maybe I should be arrested for being a silly old woman." She said the latter jokingly, but she was just trying to ease the heartache that she was feeling.

Harm embraced her.

"It'll be okay, Grandma," he whispered, holding the older woman in a protective and comforting embrace.

The quiet moment between loving grandson and grandmother was exactly what she needed right then.

**KITCHEN**

**DINNER TIME**

Though Harm hated to see his grandmother hurting, Patrick Davenport was now behind bars, and that took both the weight of the case and the threat to his family off his shoulders, thus putting Harm in a more carefree mood, one that had him feeling like cooking for his family, a task that he hadn't done in some time with his grandmother or mother having been there over the last several months.

With only minutes until the meal that they'd prepared would be ready, Harm asked his three helpers, "Which one of you wants to go get Momma and tell her that dinner is ready?"

"I will. I will," Sami squealed.

Harm was glad that she'd been the first one to speak up. She loved to help, but at four, there wasn't a lot that he was comfortable with letting her do without closer supervision than he could give her when he was in the kitchen, working alone with all three children.

"Thank you for volunteering, Sami. You go tell Momma that dinner will be ready in five minutes."

"Okay," Sami replied, skipping merrily off towards the master bedroom where Mac had gone to lie down for a bit after Harm had returned from going to get the children from school.

Sami hadn't been gone long when Harm heard her screaming.

"Daddy...Daddy!" She sounded petrified, so when he heard what sounded like her running in the house, he reserved scolding her until he could find out what was wrong.

"Daddy..." she yelled again before she emerged from the hall into the kitchen. "...hurry! Momma says that she needs you!"

Harm ripped off his apron and ran to their bedroom.

He reached the bedroom door and saw Mac sitting on the edge of the bed, her head bent down as if she were staring at some point on the floor.

"Mac, what's wrong?" Harm questioned as he rushed to her side.

Mac waited for him to sit down next to her before she said a word.

"Something's wrong," Mac answered softly as she lifted her head. That's when Harm could see tears trailing down her cheeks.

He took her hand.

"I can see there is," he said calmly. "Do you want to give me a little more information to work with?" It hadn't dawned on him that her tears could be from something other than hormones, but that was about to change with Mac's response.

"I'm..." She took in a cleansing breath.

"You're having a contraction?" Harm asked in a voice caught between surprise and panic.

The contraction didn't last long.

"It's too soon. I don't want...I can't lose this baby," she got out before her tears cut off her ability to speak.

Harm snapped into protector mode before he spoke again. It didn't matter how scared he was. She wasn't going to know that he was anything but confidant that everything would go well.

"You don't have to worry about our baby girl. She's Rabb stubborn and Marine tough. She'll be fine and so will you."

By this time, Harm's mother had come to the doorway. "Is there anything that I can do, Harm?"

"Yeah, Mom, you'll need to get dinner on the table for the kids and have Frank start my car while I grab Mac's bag. Mac might be in labor, so I'm taking her to the hospital right now."


	105. Chapter 105

**PART TWELVE **

**MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2008**

**WAITING ROOM**

**BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**BETHESDA, MD**

Harm was sitting in a chair consumed by thoughts. The primary one was how quickly life changes. In an instant, things had gone from being absolutely thrilling to completely terrifying.

How was it that things never went in the opposite direction as quickly?

Harm had been in the courtroom on Friday, the day after the arrest of Patrick Wayne Milton Davenport, when he'd been denied bail at his arraignment hearing.

Harm wished that he could be the one to prosecute Davenport, but since he was slated to be one of the witnesses, that wasn't going to happen. However, Harm planned to be at every pre-trial motion hearing through to sentencing.

Sitting in the gallery at Davenport's arraignment, Harm had been looking forward to facing off, in a manner of speaking, with Davenport from the witness box, but at this moment, it didn't seem as important as it had even a few hours ago.

Harm had thought that the threat to his family had past, but now he was back in a similar situation, waiting for word that the threat was over...except this time, it wasn't a threat from an outsider.

This time, it wasn't his whole family who was in danger, and the threat hadn't come in a form that he could fight or from which he could protect his wife.

No, this time, it was Mac's own body that had seemingly turned against her, forcing him to sit here and wait while she was in surgery, doing battle alone.

He leaned back in the chair in which he'd taken up residence some time ago, and his mind conjured up the events of the last few days.

**SUMMARY OF THE PAST FEW DAYS...**

When he'd brought Mac into the hospital on Thursday, she _had_ been in labor. However, she'd been a couple of days shy of being at thirty-four weeks, and the doctors didn't want her to deliver that early.

They'd been thankful that the medication that the doctor had given Mac had been successful in stopping her contractions, though Mac had been upset by the news that they wanted to monitor her and that she probably wouldn't be released from the hospital until after she'd given birth.

Harm had been torn between staying with Mac and attending Davenport's arraignment, but Mac had assured him that she'd be fine and that he needed to be in that courtroom.

If Davenport was going to get out on bail, they needed to know that as soon as possible in order to take measures to protect their family, their little girls in particular, since the note that they'd found in the house that he'd been renting had indicated that Davenport had been planning to take one of them.

Friday had passed without any contractions, and that evening, Mac had thanked Harm for being such an attentive husband, but had instructed him to return to work on Monday.

As parts of their conversation on Friday echoed in his head, Harm could swear that she was sitting right next to him as he remembered how she'd used a combination of logic and her charm to convince him to go back to work.

"My doctor said that I'm not going to get out of here until after I have the baby, so I have, at minimum, a three week stay since they're going to try to keep me from delivering her until I'm at thirty-seven weeks."

She'd been batting her eyes at him when she'd said, "I'd rather you use your leave time to bond with your new daughter in the first few precious days of her life than sitting here with me when there isn't anything for you to do. You left for a little while today and nothing happened. Besides, Samantha, your little ladybug is going to need extra attention from you when we bring home her baby sister, and you can give her that only if you're at home with us."

A small smiled graced his face as he thought about Sami.

Despite his attempts to explain the situation to her better, in Sami's mind, the reason why Mac was in the hospital was because the baby was hurting her, so Harm and Mac were both concerned that bringing home their new daughter was going to be hard on the four-year-old.

Though Harm had explained to Sami when they'd told the family that the new baby was going to be a girl that she was still his ladybug and always would be, they thought that Daddy might have to give her a little extra attention when they brought home the baby to help Sami overcome her anxiety about not being Daddy's little girl any more.

Along with the family aspects, Mac had also included the fact that Harm had only a few days left until he had to give the SecNav an answer about his desire to be the next JAG and that he should continue to go into the office until he'd reached a decision on that matter and informed his boss about it.

Mac could be very persuasive, so he'd given in or agreed with her. He really wasn't sure which one, but it didn't really matter. So, with no contractions over the weekend, he'd gone into work this morning.

**EARLIER TODAY **

His mind conjured up the memory of the phone call that he'd received not long before lunchtime when he'd planned to drive over to see Mac.

His phone had rung, and he'd quickly picked it up off the desk.

"H a r m..." It was Mac, but the way that she'd drug out his name, he knew that she wasn't calling just to say that she missed him.

"Mac, what is it?" he asked, suspecting the answer, but hoping that he was wrong.

"I started having contractions early this morning. I didn't want to call you, but they haven't been able to stop them. The doctor says that I'm...I'm going to have the baby today." Mac's voice was laced with fear and cracked under the strain.

Not being able to think of anything clever and light-hearted to keep her from worrying, he simply responded with, "I'm on my way, Mac."

"I'm sorry," Mac said, trying to sound less scared, but he could hear her tears.

"Hey...hey, it's going to be okay, Mac," he said, trying to offer whatever comfort he could through the phone. "I love you," he added.

"No matter what?" she inquired with a sniffle.

"No matter what," he replied without hesitation.

Harm arrived at the hospital in record time and sprinted to Mac's room.

Mac was flat on her back and looking at the opposite wall, too upset to feel his presence or to be aware that he'd arrived.

Harm stood at her door, tapping nervously on the brim of his cover that he held in his hand as he took some deep breaths until his breathing had returned to normal once again.

He entered her room now that he'd buried his fears in order to be the pillar of strength for her that she needed for him to be right now.

He made his way to her bedside in a couple of long strides and reached for her hand.

She turned to face him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, tossing his cover on the bedside table.

"Better now that you're here," she answered as she reached for him.

"Good," he said, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, the contact helping him to keep his resolve.

"When my doctor came in a little while ago...I said that you were on your way here...be back in a little bit to talk to us about what's happening," Mac said, not speaking in complete sentences.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Harm asked, wondering if her broken speech was caused by discomfort.

"No, just scared," she sniffled.

Harm started to speak, thinking that it was all that she was going to say, but when he saw her lips part as if she were going to speak again, he waited for a moment to see if she was going to say anything else.

"She's coming too soon," Mac said before taking in air in a fractured breath. "What if...?" The thought running through her mind was obvious to her husband.

She was thinking about their baby not surviving.

"Mac..." That was all that Harm got out before the doctor walked in the room.

The arrival of the doctor switched Harm from comforting man to worried husband and father-to-be, wanting to know what, if anything, the doctor had said to Mac earlier.

Harm needed to know if what he'd been about to tell Mac in hopes of comforting her were truly words of reassurance that she needed to hear or a lie based on his lack of information.

"What's their condition?" Harm asked firmly, his voice strong, which was a surprise to him since his insides were mush at the moment.

Mac's doctor was able to quell most of Harm's worries by telling them that Mac's vital signs were good, that she was in good health and that there was no reason at the moment to think that she'd have any trouble with the delivery.

It wasn't until after the second doctor, a specialist on premature babies came in and told them that, at six weeks premature, the chances that their baby girl would survive were very good that Harm really started to breathe normally again.

The doctor didn't want to speculate on what obstacles their baby girl might face until after assessing her condition after birth, citing that there are simply too many variables - that what was a problem for one baby wouldn't exist for another. He did give them an outline of how things would be different in the delivery room because he and his team would be there and that, once he'd examined the baby, he'd be speaking with them again about any issues of concern that he had about their daughter.

The doctors had told Harm that it would be hours yet before Mac was ready to deliver.

Mac and the nurses had encouraged Harm to leave the hospital to go get something to eat, change his clothes and inform the family of what was happening.

Harm knew that it was all busy work to help keep him from climbing the walls while they waited, but he wasn't going to leave Mac.

Harm did leave Mac's side twice for a few moments: once to call Frank to ask him to bring him some civvies so that he could get out of his uniform, and the second time was to change into the jeans and shirt that Frank had brought to the hospital for him.

It was a good thing that he hadn't left the hospital.

Within a couple of hours after his arrival, Mac's water had broken, and she'd experienced some minor bleeding. However, as her labor had progressed, the amount of blood that Mac had been losing had become heavier, and now he was sitting there waiting to find out if his wife was going to be by his side to raise their five young children or if he was going to be doing it alone.

**PRESENT TIME**

Harm's thoughts were interrupted by a voice. Someone had entered the waiting room.

"Captain Rabb, your daughter is all settled in and ready for you to visit if -"

"I need to stay here until I know how my wife is and then I'll come to see her," Harm said, cutting off the nurse. His words came out curtly, but it was merely the only way that he could keep his emotions under control.

"It might help for you to spend time with your daughter..." The nurse's voice trailed off.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen his daughter. He'd been in the room when his daughter had been born. He'd cut the cord. It was Mac's hemorrhaging that had forced him to be ushered out of the room.

Harm was torn.

Of course, he wanted to see his baby, but he needed to know that Mac was going to be okay.

The nurse had been in this situation before, and she knew that it was always the concern of a loving husband - that while he was with their baby, the mother would slip away.

"I'll call the OR to make sure that the doctor knows where he can find you if they need you for anything," the nurse then added.

Harm nodded.

"Then follow me, Captain."

As the tall man got to his feet, the nurse asked, "Do you have a name picked out for your daughter yet?"

"I thought that I had six more weeks to decide..." Harm began before his voice trailed off.

'The list is in my briefcase down in my car,' he thought.

"Don't worry. That happens a lot when the baby decides to come early. It's just that, if she had a name, we in the unit wanted to know it so that we could call her by her name."

**SOME MINUTES LATER**

**NICU**

After getting a lesson in washing up and putting on a gown, and then having his ID bracelet double checked, Harm was allowed entry and shown to the little Isolette that was keeping his daughter warm.

Harm looked down into the clear plastic bed.

He lifted his hand, but touching her was out of the question because of the transparent lid.

The nurse saw him retract his hand.

"Your touch will be very comforting to her," she said, encouraging him not to fight his natural instinct to bond with his daughter and pointing out the openings in the side of the enclosure that were designed for allowing examinations and parental touching without removing the newborn from the safe environment that the Isolette provided.

Harm pushed his hand through the opening until his long finger touched her tiny hand. "How's my little Sarah?" he asked, the name just falling from his lips.

"Sarah?" the nurse said like a question. "That's a pretty name."

"Yes, it is," Harm replied, his eyes never breaking their gaze on his daughter.

"Should I be calling her Sarah then, or we're you just trying out the name?"

Harm guessed that his grandmother would just have to join everyone else in calling his wife Mac, because the name just suited his little girl.

"Sarah 'what' Rabb, I'm not sure yet, but you can start to call her by her first name, Sarah."

The nurse began to instruct Harm about the wires that were attached to his little girl. She'd found that, if parents knew what they were for, it tended to put them at ease.

"There are a few things that we keep a careful watch on concerning all premature babies. The tab on her skin there..." She was pointing down from above the cover towards a little spot on her skin. "...is a temperature probe that's monitoring her body temperature. The three wires on her stomach, arm and chest are monitoring her heart rate, and the little clip on her big toe is monitoring her blood oxygen levels."

"How long will she be like this?" Harm asked, not taking his eyes off his little Sarah.

"She isn't severely premature, so it shouldn't be too long, but exactly how long is a question for her doctor. She's doing well, though, so I wouldn't be too worried about Sarah," the nurse answered politely.

Harm felt a pang of pain at the sound of the name, but he wasn't worried about the Sarah in front of him. He was worried about her namesake.

He still hadn't heard anything about his wife's condition.

"Oh, I'm not worried about her. Don't let her size fool you. She's Rabb stubborn and Marine tough. She'll be just fine," he told the nurse confidently while staring at the newest girl to take a piece of his heart.

He just had to hope that Marine tough was enough to get Mac through surgery.

Harm stayed with his little girl, stroking her arm with his finger until word came that Mac's doctor was on his way to talk to him about Mac's condition.


	106. Chapter 106

**PART THIRTEEN **

**TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2008**

**MAC'S ROOM**

**BETHESDA NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER**

**BETHESDA, MD**

**0042**

Monday changed into Tuesday unnoticed by Harm as he tried to split his time evenly between visits with his daughter and sitting at Mac's bedside, waiting for her to wake up after her surgery, until fatigue overtook him and he fell asleep in the chair next to Mac's bed.

Mac started to stir.

She felt like she had when she'd started to come to after her car accident that one Christmas Eve - her whole body seemed to hurt.

'Was I in a car accident?' she wondered, her mind disoriented from the earlier administered anesthesia that still hadn't completely left her system.

Making a slight movement, trying to assess if anything was broken, she moaned as a pain shot through her.

The origin seemed to be her belly.

She placed her hand on her abdomen and began to sob heavily as the last words that she remembered hearing came to mind: "If we don't stop this bleeding, we're going to lose her."

Harm was still asleep in the chair until Mac moaned, which caused him to stir. However, the sound of his wife crying uncontrollably had him wide awake and reaching for her hand.

"Mac?" Harm said softly.

He was going to ask her if she was experiencing severe pain from the surgery, but he didn't get to say anything before Mac spoke.

"My baby...I lost my baby," she wailed.

Trying to calm her so that she'd hear what he said, he started to rub her cheek with the side of his finger, an action that probably stemmed from the time that he'd been spending with their new daughter in the NICU. "Shh, shh, our baby girl is just fine," Harm said, hoping that she'd heard him.

He heard Mac take a gulp of air before speaking.

"But the doctor said that they couldn't stop the bleeding. I heard him say it."

"The doctor wasn't talking about the baby. He was talking about you," Harm said, cutting her off so as not to prolong the distress that she was obviously in at the moment.

"You've seen her? She's really okay?" Mac asked, trying to calm herself.

"Yes. I've seen her. She's a little thing at five pounds and she's just seventeen and a half inches long, but she's as beautiful as her mother." Harm paused for just a heartbeat before adding, "They're taking good care of her and monitoring her just in case, but her doctor says that she's doing great."

"Go check on her now," she requested softly.

"She's okay, Mac, or they would've told me," Harm stated.

He didn't want to leave Mac so soon after she'd awakened.

There was something that she needed to know and, though he'd like to tell her later - or never - he felt that it was important that he tell her before someone else did.

"Go make sure that my baby is okay. Please?" Mac begged.

Knowing that her mood was dependent on hearing current information that their baby was just fine, Harm placed a kiss on Mac's forehead before whispering, "I'll be back soon with an update on our baby girl."

Mac nodded, and Harm left the room to go see their daughter.

**A LITTLE WHILE LATER**

When Harm returned to Mac's room, Mac had fallen back to sleep, so he moved quietly back to the chair that he'd been occupying when she'd awakened earlier, but she wasn't under the effects of so much medication now and she felt his presence when he returned to the room.

"How's my baby?" Mac questioned before he sat down.

He abandoned the idea of sitting down and moved closer to her as he replied, "You don't need to worry about our little girl because she's doing well." Knowing that Mac would need to hear some details in order to believe him, he continued, "She had trouble regulating her own body temperature in the first few hours, but that seems to have passed. Her heart rate is good, and she's breathing on her own. The nurse said that those are the big ones since a normal heart rate and unaided respiration are part of the criteria for her to be released from the hospital."

Harm saw tears form in Mac's eyes as she heard him fill her in on the current condition of their baby.

"She's really okay?" Mac asked tearfully.

"Our little Sarah is going to be just fine. In fact, the nurses say that she's doing so well that they wouldn't be surprised if she's ready to go home when the doctor is ready to let you out of this place."

With tears still rolling down her face, Mac offered a smile of relief before speaking.

"Little Sarah...I thought that you'd crossed the name Sarah off the list because it might cause confusion in the house when your grandmother was there and because you didn't want her referred to as little Sarah."

"When I saw her, she was just so perfect and she reminded me so much of you that her name just had to be Sarah."

"What name did you pick to go with it ... or don't you want her to have a middle name?" Mac asked.

"I haven't gotten that far. Since I picked her first name, why don't you pick her middle name?" Harm suggested.

"Okay, then her name is Sarah Patricia," Mac announced.

"Patricia?" Harm inquired.

"Yes. It is your mother's given name, isn't it?" Mac waited for the affirmative nod from her husband before she continued, "She's a strong woman, Harm, and someone who I'd be proud to have our daughter emulate...unless you have an objection."

"No, no objection. My mother is going to cry when we tell her that her granddaughter is named after her."

"Probably, and we could even call her Patty to cut down on the confusion around the house since there'll be so many Sarahs in the family," Mac said before looking like she was going to burst into tears again. "I want to meet her. Do you know when they're going to let me see her?"

"I knew that you'd asked that, so I asked a nurse before I came back to your room. She couldn't give me an exact time, but she said that, in a few more hours, when you aren't so groggy from having the surgery, you'll be able to go see her."

Surgery... The word hung in the air.

Mac placed her hand over her abdomen. "How did they get my bleeding to stop?"

Mac was pretty sure that she knew the answer when she asked the question, but she wanted to make sure that she was correct.

This was the news that he'd hope to avoid telling Mac until she was stronger, but she'd asked now and she deserved a straight answer from him.

He placed his hand over hers.

"They did a partial...they removed..." Harm was struggling with the news because he just didn't know how she'd take it.

"No more babies..." she commented, hoping that her knowing the consequence of whatever they'd done would ease the struggle that he was having with telling her.

"They removed your uterus, so...no more babies."

Tears came to her eyes immediately after he'd confirmed the news.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he said, wiping at her tears with the pad of his thumb.

She knew that Harm loved her and she didn't believe that he'd ever leave her.

She'd been able to experience the joy of collaborating with God and giving life to two children, two more than she'd thought would be possible after her diagnosis. So she was sure that it would be okay in the long run, but if she'd learned one thing from Dr. McCool, it was that a loss, no matter how big or small or how long it took to deal with, it needed to be grieved before you could move on with your life.

"How do you feel about me not being able to have any more children?" Mac asked softly.

He squeezed her hand in response, but suspecting that she needed more in the way of reassurance, he said, "Well, if I recall correctly, you told me one time when we talked about it that you wanted six children. If you count Mattie as one of ours as I do, then we have six children. Besides, if taking out part of you is all they had to do for you to be here with me to raise our children, then I'm okay with it..." Harm paused for a heartbeat "...unless the doctor removed the part of you that loves me, then I'd have a problem with it."

Mac laughed and then winced.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts," Mac scolded. "They can't remove that part because all of me loves you."

Harm smiled.

He wasn't trying to make light of what had happened or how she might feel as a woman about the news, but he didn't want her to get depressed because it might have a detrimental effect on her recovery.

The room fell silent for only a moment.

"Do you know the other good thing about the surgery?" Mac asked.

Harm raised a questioning eyebrow in response.

"I don't have to worry about forgetting the condoms again," Mac teased.

The room fell silent again, for nearly five minutes this time.

"Mac, if you need to talk about it, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I love you ... no matter what."

"I'm not sure that I know how I feel about what they've done at the moment, but knowing that you love me - no matter what - helps, though you might have to say it a thousand more times between the time when the news sinks in and the time when I come to terms with it."

"I'll tell you a million times if that's what you need," he said before he kissed her gently.

After he'd pulled his lips from hers, he whispered, "You should get some rest now so that you're up to meeting our Sarah later."

"I am tired," she commented as she closed her eyes.

"I'll be right here if you need me," Harm told her as he sat down in the chair beside her bed.

**NICU**

**1830**

Little Sarah Patricia Rabb was a whole day old when her father got to hold her in his arms.

Settled in against his chest and safely secured in his arms, he stared at her.

She looked like a doll, he thought as he took in both her size and her delicate features.

"You're a doll," he whispered to his baby girl.

At the sound of her father's voice, she opened her eyes.

"Hello there, baby girl," he began. "Since you're awake, I want to tell you something. I have to go to a meeting tomorrow morning at the Pentagon. Daddy has to tell the SecNav - that's the Secretary of the Navy - if he wants to be the JAG - that's stands for Judge Advocate General. Now, I won't be gone long, but I can't put off giving him an answer any longer, so I have to go."

"Of course, it would help if I knew what I was going to tell him," he added with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Harm stared at the newborn, surprised that she seemed to be really listening to him.

"You see, if I tell him that I do want the job and I'm appointed to the position, it means that we won't be returning to California where your grandparents live for at least a few years. They love their grandchildren and would like for us to live closer to them. I could tell him that I don't want the job and retire, which means that we could move back to California, but I don't know if I'm ready to give up the Navy yet. So, what do you say, Sarah? Should Daddy retire or stay in the Navy?"

"Tell Daddy that, if he really can't make up his mind, maybe he should flip a coin," Mac said with a chuckle from behind him as a nurse pushed her towards him in a wheelchair.

Harm snorted.

"Don't laugh. We made a very important decision in the past by tossing a coin, and it's worked out beautifully for us," Mac said with a smile as she was being wheeled closer to him.

"Your mother does have a point," Harm said, tilting their daughter in Mac's direction.

"She's ..." Mac said, choked up with joy at seeing with her own eyes that their daughter was really alive and well.

"...Perfect," Harm finished before the nurse took the baby from her father so that she could be cradled by her mother for the first time.

**MAC'S ROOM**

**1955**

"Captain...Ma'am?" Bud whispered as he slowly pushed open the door.

"Bud," Harm said, getting to his feet. "We're glad that you could make it on such short notice."

"I brought Harriet. She wanted to see the baby. I hope that's okay," Bud said, hoping that the colonel wouldn't mind the extra visitor.

"Of course it's okay, Bud," Harm said, motioning for them to enter.

"Come on in," Mac said, letting her visitors know that she was awake and expecting them.

While Harriet greeted and gushed about the new Rabb arrival, Harm turned to Bud.

"Bud, did you bring it?" Harm asked.

"Yes, Sir, but why did you want me to bring the JAG coin that the admiral gave me?" Bud inquired.

"I would've told you on the phone when I called, but I figured that you'd think that I was crazy. I've got a choice to make and I want you to flip the coin to determine what my decision will be."

"What's the choice, Sir?" Bud asked.

"Whether or not I'm going to retire," Harm stated.

After the words came out of Harm's mouth, Harriet's eyes darted from Harm to Bud to Mac.

Bud's reaction was different. His eyes became fixed on Harm's.

"Sir, you don't want to retire. You know that you're on the short list to be the JAG, don't you, Sir? We could be working together again, Sir," Bud said in a nervous babble.

"I know, Bud. That's one of the reasons why I think that I'm having such trouble deciding. On the one hand, I could be home with my family, but on the other, I could be Rear Admiral Harmon Rabb, Jr., the next JAG."

"I see your dilemma, Sir," Bud said with understanding.

Harriet was still looking at Mac with disbelieving eyes, and Mac felt that she needed to try to offer an explanation that might help Harriet to better understand.

Mac's eyes were focused on Harriet, and she addressed her directly, though the others in the room could hear her when Mac offered her insight on the matter.

"Harm feels that he's at a crossroads in his life. After being able to spend thirty days at home with his children while he was recovering, he got a taste of what being at home with them full-time would be like, but he isn't sure that he's ready to give up his Navy career yet, either. I know that flipping a coin seems to be an odd way to make decisions, but it seems to work for us."

Harriet nodded her head, signaling that she understood, though she still looked like she was in shock, or maybe she was just overwhelmed.

"You need to call the sides, Sir."

"Mac, you do the honors," Harm said, giving her the choice.

"Are you sure that you want me to choose?" Mac inquired of Harm.

Harm nodded affirmatively.

"Heads he stays in, and tails means that he retires," Mac stated with certainty.

Bud positioned the coin atop his closed fist, preparing for the flip.

"You ready, Sir?" Bud questioned.

"I have to be, Bud. I have to be in the SecNav's office first thing in the morning with my decision."

Bud nodded and sent the coin tumbling into the air.

Holding hands, Harm and Mac watched as the coin reached its apex.

FREEZE FRAME

FADE TO BLACK

This was the end of the original outline for the continuation of the TV series. However, response has been so great for the continuation of this written series that I'm currently working on stories that will become Volume III.


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